Agent L
by Snapplelinz
Summary: “There are two lies that I have to tell myself every day in order to stay alive: 1. I am not smart and; 2. I am not a secret agent." A story about London Tipton's double life. Rated T for strong language in certain scenes, younger readers beware.
1. Debriefing

_**A/N: Hi there all! This is the first chapter of my new story. I'm putting it out as a tester to see what you all think.**__** This story unlike my first Suite Life fanfic, 'A Suite Wedding', is actually set around the time of season 3 of the series and not set in the future. I'll try to keep age differences up to speed for the characters. Please feel free to criticize and critique my writing, particularly the action scenes, in the future as well. I'll continue to write the remaining chapters as they come to me. Enjoy!**_

"Welcome back London, how was your trip?" Mr. Moseby asked pleasantly with a welcoming smile on his face. It had been nearly 2 weeks since I, London Tipton, had departed on my vacation to China. And now I was back in Boston at my home, the Tipton Hotel on Monday afternoon. "Thank you Moseby, I loved every minute of it," I breathed peacefully while handing my bags carelessly to Esteban the bell-boy. "Hong Kong was to die for. There were so many shopping malls as far as the eye could see. The Hong Kong Tipton was exquisite naturally, but no where on the same level as this one of course," I added, giving Mr. Moseby an indulgent smile which he returned. It was so easy keeping him happy, hotel management was his life-blood. "I'm just so happy to be home, I'm exhausted." I concluded blissfully. Maddie Fitzpatrick, the candy counter girl and my best friend couldn't stop herself from making a sarcastic retort from behind her booth. "Yes, I can see how spending Daddy's cash can really take it out of you." Maddie quipped dryly. "Madeline! Don't you have some candy to sell?" Mr. Moseby demanded reproachfully. I had to keep my face perfectly masked and free from anger. It would be just like Maddie to make a comment like that just because she was envious of my station in life. Ooh, what I wouldn't give to tell her the truth about where I'd really been. But I knew I couldn't do that. Revealing my secret would put too many people's lives in danger, especially those closest to me. So I had to ignore Maddie's callous and malicious insinuations, for now at least. I could get my revenge in other ways.

"That's alright Moseby. I guess I'll just have to give that emerald necklace I bought for Maddie with Daddy's cash to charity now." I mused, feigning deep thought. I caught a glimpse of Maddie spluttering apologies out of the corner of my eye and laughed inwardly as I walked to the elevator. I opened the door to my suite on the 23rd floor. I watch with unconcealed delight when I saw my dog Ivana come bounding towards me. I scooped her up in my arms and allowed her to lick my face incessantly. "Hi Ivana, ooh I missed you so much. Mommy's home now," I whispered into her ear while planting a kiss on her head. While I filled up Ivana's drinking bowl with a fresh bottle of Evian, I gazed absent-mindedly around the suite. It looked the same as always, but I still felt like a stranger. "Stop being so morbid, you're just tired that's all." I chastised myself loudly while sitting on a nearby recliner.

"Here are your bags Miss London," Esteban announced a minute later. He found me in the same recliner gazing out of my window at the surrounding sky-scrapers, clearly lost in thought. "Uh Miss London, is anything the matter?" Esteban asked tentatively. Poor well-meaning and perceptive Esteban. If only I could tell someone, confide in anyone. For now I contented myself with yet another lie. "Everything's fine Esteban. Could you do one thing for me? Call down to the spa and ask them to send Chanel up to my suite in an hour. I'm in desperate need of a massage." I instructed quickly. "Yes Miss London. Welcome back." Esteban answered swiftly, giving me a small smile before exiting. Sighing aloud, I settled myself more comfortably in the recliner and felt myself wince from a jarring pain in my spine. At least requiring a masseuse hadn't been a lie. Come to think of it, my entire body was aching, not to mention my arm. The damn adrenaline must have finally worn off. One of these days I was going to have to actually take a real vacation. And that got me thinking about my latest journey.

**A Week Ago…**

_I got out of the l__imousine after a 10-hour flight on my private jet from Boston, which would have normally taken 20 hours. I had finally arrived at the Hong Kong Tipton where the red carpet was laid out for me. There was the usual ass-kissing __manoeuvres from the personnel__ such as 'Good day Miss Tipton…how was your flight? We've booked the penthouse suite for you…please allow us to send up a complementary basket of assorted Lindor chocolates to your suite…' blah blah blah. It was a pity that I literally spent only 10 minutes up in my suite. It was luxurious, the view positively breathtaking. But I had my orders and I needed to act quickly. I changed rapidly out of my extravagant clothing into an inconspicuous black pants suit with matching outdoor hat and trench coat. Then the doorbell rang with three sharp clangs. Without checking the peephole, I quickly opened the door. A young woman the same height as me and sporting the same black outfit I was wearing entered the room without speaking._

_Then very swiftly, she opened a sports bag she was carrying, revealing clothing that matched my former outfit down to the tee. She speedily began undressing herself right in front of me. When she was finished, she was the spitting image of myself. Wendy, or London as she would be referred to for an entire week, was my impersonator or double. She never went with me on my more dangerous missions; her only mission was to pose as me during my absences. The paparazzi would be only too eager to latch onto a rich heiress who disappeared at will into remote areas for days, weeks, even months at a time for no apparent reason. It had taken me almost a year to train Wendy in my every mannerism, speech and dress code so she wouldn't give away my secret. By now, Wendy was a pro, as if she were destined to play me all her life. And the plan was simple: I would slip out of my suite dressed as her and she would remain in my suite posing as me and play the part until my return. Wendy knew that if anything were to ever happen to me during the call of duty; if I were to be killed, she would have to shed her disguise for good and either disappear or return to her normal life. But so far, nothing had ever gone horribly wrong and I hoped my good luck would continue in this vein. What I needed to do was important and mistakes would be costly for all involved. "Happy hunting," Wendy wished by way of greeting with a grim expression. "You too, enjoy the chocolates." I returned, giving her a small smile before closing the door behind me. _

_After I had successfully slipped out of the Tipton, I got into the hired car that Wendy had arrived with and made my way to a tiny airstrip just north of Hong Kong in the town of Shenzhen. And there I met Alec Stone, a comrade and personal assistant to me at the best of times. Behind him stood a tiny aircraft preparing for take-off. "Here is your appropriate documentation. All your equipment and supplies are already on board," Alec began smoothly, handing me I.D. with the name 'San Mei Ying' on it. "Excellent, and the informant?" I asked Alec promptly while putting the I.D. in my pocket. "His name is Chin Kok Meng, but he calls himself the Grasshopper. You're to meet him at this address tonight at 23:35, he'll tell you more." Alec explained quickly. I nodded once to show him I understood. "I still don't understand why you had to fly clear across the country just to keep up the façade that you're still in Hong Kong." Alec stated disbelievingly. "Don't take this the wrong way Alec, but people would notice if I go missing. It kinda comes with the territory of your father's earnings being posted on Forbes. Taking necessary precautions is all part of the job." I explained curtly. "Touché. Well, you'd better take a nap before you meet Grasshopper. You'll be spending a lot of quality time with him for the next four days before you make the bust." Alec replied with a laugh. "Yay me." I muttered darkly. "Thanks Alec!" I called out before boarding the plane. "You're welcome. Be careful L!" Alec called out to me. I waved to him one last time as the plane took off towards Beijing. _

_I arrived in Beijing nearly 2 hours later, took a quick nap in the crappy motel I was held up in. __And then I went to the warehouse/depot to meet my informant, Grasshopper. The time I spent with him (3 days and nights) was easily the most annoying and familiar I had spent with another individual. I conversed mainly with Grasshopper (an ex-con) in his native tongue of Mandarin. "So why do people call you Grasshopper?" I asked him casually in the early hours of our fourth morning together. "Because I know how to avoid getting stamped on." Grasshopper answered sardonically which made me chuckle quietly. It was silent for a few minutes while I scanned the docks for any sign of life with my night-vision goggles. It was 5am and the dockside was shrouded with morning mist. The perfect cover under which a nefarious criminal could hope to be concealed. Finally, Grasshopper broke the long silence. "I meant what I said about not getting stamped on. I've got a feeling about you Pink Lotus [his designated nickname for me]. You're going to get me killed." He stated cryptically, which made me frown. "Not if you do everything exactly the way we planned. Let's get moving, it's time." I replied silkily, scanning my watch. _

_It was the signal we'd been waiting for which happened at exactly 5:06am. Two men in dark overalls were pushing hefty-looking wooden crates on a pulley towards a wooden hut where a naked bulb gave the only light. I focused my goggles on the labels on the wooden crates. Sure enough, each label carried on them symbols in the Chinese language spelling out the name of a secret drug-trafficking syndicate named OPIUM. "You're in luck Grasshopper, the symbols on those crates don't spell out clam chowder. Now I don't have to shoot you in the head first." I said with a straight face which made him pale considerably. "Now, time for us to say good morning. You first." I instructed tersely, nudging Grasshopper ahead from our hiding place with my pistol. Grasshopper slouched forward begrudgingly while I hid under the window of the hut. Grasshopper opened the door tentatively and stepped inside. Naturally, I heard the loud clicking of at least six guns being pointed at Grasshopper's head. I heard Grasshopper appeasing them by encouraging them to put their guns down by saying that their boss sent them. That was my cue as I kicked the door open. "Mind if I join too?" I asked coyly, pointing my gun at the head of the first guy in front of me. _

_Naturally, the guns all previously pointed at Grasshopper's head now pointed to my head instead. I scanned the room quickly. The crates were open now, containing at least 500kg of cocaine per crate and briefcases of money lay open on a rickety wooden table. Without missing a beat, I flicked a switch blade concealed behind my back, tossing it carefully at the guy diagonal to me. The switchblade embedded itself neatly into the wall between the guy's legs, just millimeters south from his groin. "Drop the guns." I ordered tersely, my tone indicating that I wasn't playing around. The man that I had almost de-crowned happened to be the leader of this crew as I had correctly surmised. He ordered them in Mandarin to drop their weapons with a frantic hiss. "Frisk them," I commanded of Grasshopper after they had all dropped their guns. "Good for nothing lying bastard," a guy nearest to Grasshopper cursed aloud in Mandarin at him. "Oh, like you didn't know that before. Zip it Sailor." I retorted callously, holding my gun firmly in place. Seeing it happen far too late, the guy screaming out profanities just seconds ago whipped out a tiny pistol from his ankle holster and fired at Grasshopper's chest, sending him careening to the ground. "Shit," I muttered and dove under the wooden table. Then all hell broke loose when guns began firing all around me._

"_Oh no, you didn't," I mumbled curtly, kicking savagely at a pair of shins standing near me in front of the table. While the guy was jumping around in pain, I emerged from under the table and delivered a spinning heel kick in his groin and wrapped one hand around his neck in a chokehold, throwing him down onto the ground forcefully. I grabbed the gun out of the hand of the guy directly behind me and aimed the butt at his nose, breaking it on contact. Just as a third guy tried to fire at me, I picked up a hefty silver briefcase of money and swiped at his face and shoulder, sending him collapsing onto the floor in pain. I managed to kick a stray gun on the floor out of the way as the fourth thug came hurtling towards me. I crouched down on all fours and knocked him off of his feet with a well-placed front sweep, sending him crashing onto his back. I then hit him in the head with a rickety wooden chair for good measure as well. A bullet whizzed past my ear, just missing me narrowly and embedding itself in the wall behind me. As luck would have it, the guy who shot at me had fired his last round. Before he could reload, I struck deftly at his Adam's apple with a well-placed front kick, which had him on the floor clutching his throat and gasping for breath. _

_That left me with Sailor Mouth, sporting a large rifle in his hands. I rolled out of the way when he fired a round at me. I rolled a heavy steel barrow in his foot path to distract him. While he tried to step out of the way, I rose in the air and delivered a 540° tornado kick at his wrist, causing the gun to fly out of his hand. Just as I disposed of the gun out the window, Sailor Mouth hit me across the cheek which sent me careening to the ground. While I felt my cheek growing inflamed by the second, I saw Sailor Mouth take a switchblade out of yet another ankle holster. "Oh swell, you like your accessories too." I huffed ironically, roiling out of the way as he took a swipe at me with the knife. I got to my feet and continued swerving left, then right and bending backwards to avoid Sailor Mouth's jabs. But then I was momentarily by the sound of sirens and a helicopter hovering in the sky overhead. I felt a searing pain in my forearm where Sailor Mouth had stabbed me. Before I could react, he pushed me onto my stomach and pressing his heavy boot into my back, winding me momentarily. He grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head upwards. The pain was excruciating in my spine and neck. Thinking carefully, I grabbed a pin from my hair. I snapped the decorative butterfly off it, revealing the sharp needle. And then I plunged the needle into the hand gripping my hair. He let go instantly and I managed to roll out from under his boot using a grappling __manoeuvre known as a bridge by kicking at his feet behind me, sending him to his knees. I then righted myself and entwined my fingers together. With a sudden spurt of rage, I swung deftly at his jaw with a hammer-blow technique, sending him to the floor along with his other comrades, groaning in anguish and agony. _

_Just as I was tying up the six thugs two by two, the cavalry showed up. Perfect timing as always. Letting the badges take care of the thugs, I rushed over to Grasshopper's side. I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw that the bullet was embedded in his shoulder and not his chest as I previously thought. But he did look terribly pale under the light of the naked bulb from the loss of blood. "See, what did I tell you? I said you were going to get me killed you crazy bitch. I'm dying." Grasshopper croaked in Mandarin. I laughed loudly at this while feeling his pulse. "Oh don't be so melodramatic Grasshopper, it's just a flesh wound. You're going to be just fine." I chided gently, touching his cheek for a moment. I stepped away to let the paramedics tend to Grasshopper. I then turned my attention to Chief-superintendent Foo, head of the Beijing police and an old friend. _

"_Nice work Agent L, my men have seized at least 2000kg of cocaine. Is there any more hidden on the premises?" Superintendent Foo asked me politely. "Check the clipboard on the table. It has a list of shipments for this week. I suggest that you seize and detain any incoming cargo as they enter the harbour." I replied quickly. "I'll do that. Agent L, you're bleeding!" Superintendent Foo exclaimed in a clipped tone, pointing to my arm. Sure enough, the pain returned to me and my forearm was bleeding profusely. "You should have one of the paramedics bandage you up." Superintendent Foo instructed in a concerned voice. "That won't be necessary Chief. My own physician will be flying back with me to Boston, he can tend to it then." I intervened smoothly while putting on a brave face. _

_And then I was back on my private jet within the hour, taking and sending orders. Eleanor, my boss and overseer told me I was expected for debriefing the day after next once I reached headquarters. I myself had sent hurried instructions to Wendy while at the warehouse to check out of the Tipton in Hong Kong while I was on route to Shenzhen and meet me there. She was now sitting in the back of the plane watching a film while my private physician, Dr. Hamilton, tended to my arm. I tried to ignore the pain shooting down my arm while he stitched it up. "Honestly London, could you have picked a more dangerous vocation?" Dr. Hamilton asked dryly while cutting at the threads of his stitching. "Probably not Dr. Hamilton, unless you consider welding." I teased wryly with a grin which he didn't return. I sighed while I watched his weary countenance. Dr. Hamilton had been my personal physician since I was a little girl and I trusted him implicitly. He was one of the few select which I had taken into my confidence. Since I had let Dr. Hamilton in on my little secret, he now accompanied me on all my missions when I had need of his expertise in tricky situations when I couldn't go to a hospital. _

"_London, you know I worry about you a great deal. All these injuries, the risks you expose yourself to on a regular basis. Not to mention the sleep deprivation you inflict on yourself. If your father knew about this –" "But he doesn't Dr. Hamilton, and that's the point. His knowledge about any of this would put his life in danger and I can't have that. I can handle whatever's thrown at me." I intervened seriously. "London, I know that my part in this entire menagerie is to do my job and ask few questions. I only want you to look after yourself while you serve your country." Dr. Hamilton concluded in a softer tone. "I will, thanks for caring." I replied kindly while we smiled at one another…_

I stared at the bandage around my forearm in wonder. I had to wear a long coat over my arm when I entered the Tipton earlier to avoid awkward questions. One of the many perks of my job. Not that I was complaining exactly. I minded the lies and double-standard, but I knew my reasons for doing this were good. I collapsed onto my king-sized bed, stroking Ivana's sleek fur while I stared absent-mindedly at the ceiling. It was now 3pm. Just 17 more hours till I had to be at headquarters for debriefing. At least they gave me time to sleep. Ah, sleep, my body craved it immensely. I never slept well on missions, probably because of the intense adrenaline rush before and after the job was done. But it was always easier to fall asleep in Boston, at home in my own bed. And that's when I dozed off, my thoughts ending on two lies that I have to tell myself every day in order to stay alive: 1) I am not smart and; 2) I am not a secret agent.

"_In earlier news, notorious mob boss Alexei Novak, who is awaiting trial for 200 counts of drug-trafficking and money-laundering may very well be convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment. In a statement released by Ching-Wen Foo, Chef-Superintendent of the Beijing Police, Chinese operatives in conjunction with American intelligence have managed to uncover cocaine to the value of $10 million stashed in warehouses across China owned by Novak. In addition, several persons in police custody once affiliated with the notorious drug syndicate aptly named OPIUM have signed sworn declarations alleging Novak's apparent guilt and direct links to the crime syndicate as its head. And these same persons are prepared to testify against Novak in front of the Supreme Court to avoid harsher sentences. Based on these findings, the Supreme Court will reconvene later this week to make its final decision on Novak's final fate and the final fate of a new generation which Novak has affected with his criminal affiliations. This is Francesca Ramirez for the 6 o'clock news on Sky." _

The person controlling the remote control for the luxurious LCD TV screen switched it off rapidly, watching the TV image deteriorate in a neat line with very little satisfaction. Two men sat alone in a plush office on the 30th floor of a corporate multi-billion dollar company in a Boston sky-scraper a short distance from the Tipton. The two men were middle-aged, well-dressed businessmen. And both were extremely infuriated by the week's developments. "Trust Novak to advertise everything he was doing right up to his arrest and after. It's like leaving a bread crumb trail for the vultures." The man identified as Curtis grumbled exasperatedly. "Novak couldn't have known that American intelligence was so hot on his trails. We all thought the operation would go undetected. Someone's been playing a triple agent in the ranks." The man identified as Maxwell responded pensively. "Then perhaps it's high time we stop putting our faith in flighty and unscrupulous individuals. If the Supreme Court finds Novak guilty, even if they don't find him guilty, he cannot remain as the head of this organisation." Curtis went on forcefully. "Then we will find someone else to steer OPIUM forward, someone who won't tolerate the antics of Agent L." Maxwell remarked cryptically. "Let's schedule a meeting right before the press conference on Friday. Let the class elections begin." Curtis returned with a sly grin. Maxwell picked up the receiver of a phone nearby and began dialling. "Bridgette, send a message to Laurent immediately. There will be a meeting this Wednesday evening with the entire board of directors. Send out a memo." Maxwell instructed curtly and then hung up the phone. "And now we wait." Maxwell added more to himself while he stared out the window at the city below. "So we wait. Agent L will rue the day she dared to thwart us." Curtis concluded ominously while staring out the window in the direction of the Tipton.

_**A/N: Shoo, that was a long introduction! I hope you all like London with a brain. If you don't, then this story is probably not for you : ) I hope I haven't offended any Martial Arts students or instructors with my poor knowledge of technique or manoeuvres. I was playing it by ear and using Wikipedia as a starting point for my referencing. I will introduce more of the characters you love and adore from Suite Life, such as the Martin Twins after this initial chapter. So sit back and enjoy, gotta go. **_


	2. Walking Over Graves

_**A/N: Hi everyone, the second chapter is finally up! So sorry that it took me this long to post it, there was a lot of ground to cover. Because I posted the first chapter really quickly 2 weeks ago, there was something important that I forgot to do. I need **__**to thank PerennialKillJoy for giving me the idea, inspiration and the input for this story. I wouldn't have been to write this story without him. So thanks a ton KillJoy – you'll get plenty of royalties if this story ever hits the big time : ) Unfortunately for now, my eternal thanks will have to suffice. Okay, back to the story: more flashbacks and angst as we delve deeper into London's past. Enjoy! **_

After Chanel had attended to my aching body, I fell asleep instantly in my relaxed state. I wish that I could've slept a dreamless sleep. I slept throughout the rest of Monday into Tuesday morning, Numerous images kept flashing through my head while I slept: someone stabbing my arm with a dagger; me hanging off of a cliff holding on for dear life; a little girl walking towards me, carrying a bloodied teddy bear; a woman walking towards me, a bomb strapped to her chest; a building imploding into flames. And then I woke up, my hair around my face, my body bathed in sweat glistening in the light of the rising sun.

I dined early on a sumptuous breakfast in my suite around 7am. I dressed myself more conservatively in a simple grey pants suit with heels and a white blouse underneath. I wasn't in the mood for dressing extravagantly. Besides, I had to look presentable for my debriefing meeting. I got into my private limousine around 7:20am and got my driver to drop me off at my favourite shopping mall. I smiled at the security guard as I strolled through the entrance. All the shops were closed of course, so I sauntered into the ladies bathroom on the first floor. I applied an extra shade of rouge to my lips and stepped outside the bathroom. To the left of the bathroom was a door only accessible to mall employees. I retrieved an access card from my purse and swiped it through the card slot. A light flashed green and I opened the door swiftly.

The door closed behind me with a snap. I was now standing in a large hallway lit by tiny orange bulbs. I walked down this hallway for at least 15 minutes, seeing and hearing nothing all along the way. Finally, I came to stand in front of a solitary elevator. I got into it and pressed the number 5. Within seconds the scene before my eyes changed; a transition from the faint orange lights depicting an underground sewer to blue fluorescent lights. The elevator doors opened and I entered a plush office space with people hustling and bustling around me, carrying paperwork and gadgets that couldn't be found in the shopping mall I'd left behind me 20 minutes ago. I had just entered my second home, the headquarters of a special division of the CIA named the Demolition Espionage Military Operative Network, or DEMON for short. I personally thought that DEMON was an appropriate abbreviation for such an organization: the might and power of a force difficult to fathom or comprehend; yet cursed, without the slightest qualm about turning the dagger onto itself in the name of self-preservation.

I smiled quickly at a few persons whom I recognized on my way to the main conference room. Again I used my card-key and swiped at the slot in the door. I let myself in quietly and found that a horde of personnel and agents were already settled in their seats, talking amongst themselves. But the atmosphere was still relaxed, which meant that neither Eleanor nor Omar Malcolm, the head of DEMON, had not arrived yet. I saw an empty next to Alec at the transparent circular table and lowered myself into it. "Morning L. What, no Vertalli or D&G threads today?" Alec asked me with a small smile. "Not today. I'll save it for the day Omar fires my ass." I teased back with a wry grin. "That won't be today, you're the hero of the week. Still suffering from jet lag?" Alec asked casually. "Like you wouldn't believe," I muttered dryly, which made us both laugh. We both shut up instantly when Eleanor and Omar entered the conference room. Omar was the only one left standing as Eleanor found a seat directly to his left. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, fellow agents. We have a lot of ground to cover during this meeting. I hope you will bear with me." Omar began cordially. Omar's words at the beginning of every meeting such as this were always polite. But no one present in the room would dare take him lightly: his tone meant business. So unless you wanted to look for another job or take out an early life insurance policy, you wouldn't leave your seat, not even to go to the bathroom.

"For those of you who haven't read this morning's paper, I have taken the liberty of enlarging the front page on the projector screen. Please turn your attention to the headline." Omar commanded gently, switching the screen on with a flick. If I had seen the paper this morning, I certainly would have tossed a bagel at something or someone. The headline read 'Optimum Buys Out Bank of America'. "The pharmaceutical company, sir?" Alec asked curiously beside me. "The very same Agent Stone." Omar replied sardonically. "But why buy out the Bank of America, sir? Its shares and stocks have plummeted since the economic decline," another female agent asked nearest to Eleanor. "Because they, like any other company or individual, knows that purchasing property is a sound investment, regardless of the state of economy." Omar answered reasonably. "Certainly sir, if it's a house or a few shares. But an entire company, especially a bank that's recently crashed? Why do they even want it?" another agent a few seats away from me asked in a skeptical tone. "Optimum may not want it, but they certainly need it. Controlling major shares in a bank in a prosperous economy would be extremely beneficial to any individual or corporation." Eleanor intervened in a serious tone. "And once the economy takes a turn for the better, Optimum Pharmaceuticals will have its own personal piggy-bank for its business venture – legal or otherwise." I added shrewdly, the heads of every agent in the room turning in my direction.

"Agent L has hit the nail on the plank. Optimum is an extremely lucrative corporation. Optimum likes to buy shares and make investments in smaller business ventures. I am of the opinion that Optimum has bought the Bank of America to fund a venture of theirs that is both important and expensive. But as to what that venture is, we're still in the dark." Omar explained in a serious voice. "We do, however, have a suspicion that Optimum may be attempting to re-open their drug-trafficking operations. Since Agent L successfully infiltrated their storage facility in Beijing, this has been the final nail in Alexei Novak's coffin." Eleanor continued, giving me a quick smile. "And since I'm friendly with the District Attorney Mr. Richards, he has informed me off the record that the case against Novak is damning. Therefore, I can surmise this much: Optimum's Board of Directors will be in a hurry to replace Novak with a new head to oversee OPIUM's franchises. And I believe the appointment will occur sometime this week. And preferably in time for their press conference this Friday to announce their plans for the Bank of America." Omar concluded gravely.

After saying this, I noticed a bunch of papers being given to each agent in the room by a secretary. "Fellow agents, these are your individual assignments for the week. We are currently interested in locating one Reuben Marshall, a PR liaison of sorts to Curtis Owen, a trustee in Optimum. But mostly, Marshall is an over glorified drug lord in charge of OPIUM's lower management regime. Our intelligence has informed us that he arrived back in the States on Saturday night, but we have been unable to track his movements since then. We need to locate him and bring him in for questioning. We need a mole on the inside of OPIUM to anticipate what their next move will be." Omar instructed quietly.

Based on their murmurs of approval, everyone around me seemed satisfied with their assignments, save for myself. I fought hard to compose myself as I addressed both Eleanor and Omar. "Excuse me sir, but are you sure this is what you want me to do?" I asked cautiously of Omar. "Incontrovertibly." Omar answered with a small cryptic smile. "But sir, meaning no disrespect of course, but wouldn't I be better placed doing surveillance during the week?" I asked pleadingly, knowing full well I was clutching at straws. "No you wouldn't, because I want you to do your current assignment Agent L." Omar barked, his tone clearly epitomizing the phrase 'don't push me'.

"Agent L," Eleanor intercepted in a chiding tone for both myself and Omar. "Brenda Russell is the only known agent who has ever captured and detained Reuben Marshall long enough to question him intimately about his involvement with OPIUM. Her files on the said interrogations are imperative to our continued investigations regarding Reuben Marshall. Given your previous relationship with Brenda, I think you know full well how important your assignment is, despite your personal misgivings." Eleanor concluded firmly. "I understand perfectly. If my country requires my services in this delicate matter, then I have no choice but to obey." I answered Eleanor in a tone which I hoped implied my compliance and my unhappiness to do so. "Then it's settled. Agent L, you will go to Brenda Russell's previous residence and retrieve the necessary files. You will write up a short summary of your findings of approximately 3 pages and report back to us tomorrow morning at 09:00. We are dismissed." Omar commanded in a ringing voice. All my fellow agents quickly bustled past me as they filed out of the oval room. That left myself and Eleanor alone for a few seconds. She didn't say a word, but her eyes said it all: pride over my recent successful mission; disappointment about my reluctance to do my current assignment and silent understanding about my reluctance. I tore my eyes away from her, not wanting her pity or apology. And then I strutted out of the conference room, leaving her to her own devices.

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"1, 2, 3…4. London, how many was that? 10? 12? I bet it was 15 minimum." Zack rambled on nonsensically, his face turning beet red. I stood erect once more after having completed my warm-up stretches. "It was 6 push-ups Zack. I didn't think it was possible for someone to suck this much." I answered a little too flippantly. "Hey, it's not as easy as it looks. I'd like to see you try doing 20 push-ups. In 20 seconds." Zack challenged sourly. That did it. "Okay Zack, I'll do 20 push-ups. I'll even throw in 10 extra push-ups for the same amount of time." I replied airily while getting into position. "Your funeral." Zack remarked while resetting the stop watch. "Go!" he commanded excitedly and I went to work. I don't know if I was born with an extra pair of chromosomes, but exercise was just one of those things that came easily to me like breathing. I was adept at numerous forms of exercise: cardio vascular, Pilates, kick-boxing, swimming, martial arts, yoga. I could even play most sports comfortably if not exceedingly well. But no one was supposed to know that. After all, London Tipton's first love was supposed to be shopping.

It was still Tuesday, around 2pm. I was putting off my latest assignment for as long as possible. Exercise was the only thing that helped me to centre myself and to prevent myself from putting someone's head through a wall. So I was making the most of my time by bonding with Zack and Cody Martins, my neighbours in the Tipton. The twins and their mother Carey, a cabaret singer moved into the Tipton nearly 3 years ago. I, along with Maddie, was constantly getting into all sorts of trouble on account of the twins, particularly Zack's crazy schemes. But they were a barrel of laughs and a whole lot of fun. In my line of work, I had to constantly think and act like an adult, despite being only 18 years old. The twins kept me young at heart and adventurous. They had enriched my life a great deal, though I'd never openly admit that to them. So today, I was helping Zack get in shape and playing chess with Cody at the same time. Yet another pastime which I wasn't supposed to be good at, but explained away as a fluke.

"I can't believe it, you actually did 30 push-ups in under 20 seconds!" Zack stated in wonder. "I told you I would. Maybe you should try some sit-ups instead." I suggested in a kinder voice. I felt a little bad for showing Zack up, but I couldn't help myself sometimes. I'm a Tipton, it's what we do. "Can't, it's too hard." Zack muttered in defeat while collapsing onto his stomach on the carpet. "I told you it's pointless to bet against London when it comes to exercising." Cody quipped knowingly from the coffee table where our chess pawns were placed on. "Shut up, Cody." Zack mumbled, his face buried in the carpet. "Come on, Zack, give me 10 sit-ups. I'll even spot you. The whole reason we're doing this is so you can impress Maddie, which was your idea. It'll be extremely difficult for Maddie to ignore you when you're ripped like Tom Welling." I prompted in a persuasive tone with just a touch of flattering seduction. That did the trick. "I pinned Zack's feet down with my hands while he did 7 straight sit-ups without flinching. The final 3 were slightly sluggish, but nevertheless sit-ups. "Well done Zack! I told you listening to me would make you smarterer. You can take a break now." I chided in a satisfied tone, smiling broadly.

Zack took the towel tossed by me gratefully and mopped his face. "I have to say, you're really good at exercising London. You could be a fitness instructor." Cody marveled in a tone filled with awe. "Thanks Cody, I appreciate the compliment. But people only become fitness instructors for 2 reasons: because they have low self-esteem and because they're poor." I answered blatantly. Cody couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Cody's right, you're an exercising dynamo. If you made a fitness video, you'd sell a ton just based on how you look. With a body like yours, I'm surprised you don't stop traffic." Zack marveled with relish, giving me a subtle once-over. This took me completely by surprise. Zack had never expressed any physical attraction towards anyone besides Maddie, let alone me. It's not like I wasn't used to guys checking me out and drooling over me. And they were all as different as night and day: young stock broker-types (too broke for me); middle-aged business magnates my father's age (I just threw up in my mouth a little bit); greasy biker-types (as if); boys the same age as the Martin twins (double as if) and of course the occasional thug hauled up with me in an interrogation room (keep dreaming).

I'd been on tons of dates in the past, mostly those arranged by my personal assistant with celebrities for a PR campaign. I'd only ever had one serious relationship (that makes for one actual boyfriend) and that was with Lance Fishman, the lifeguard at the Tipton. Maddie had dated him previously, but that had never materialized into anything serious due to the fact that Lance talked of nothing else but his love for water and had thought the film 'Sea Biscuit' was about a sea horse. My self-esteem took a serious dive when he dumped me for another girl or mermaid to be precise. Since then, Lance and I have been on fairly amicable terms. But I very rarely went on dates these days, not even the fake ones. I told myself that my secret life made normal dating and romance exceedingly complicated. But the truth is (though I'd never admit it to the said person or anyone else for that matter), Lance's rejection had cut deep and left a festering scar. I was reluctant to trust anyone who had the power to hurt me. I'm a lone wolf for a reason: in both of my worlds, I never knew who I could really trust.

I snapped back to reality when I saw that Zack and Cody were staring at me in confusion at my strained silence. "Zack, you're so silly sometimes. Like I'd even hedge out Maddie on your Top 10 Hottie List. On second thoughts, I would hedge out Maddie." I answered. "Oh goodness me, it's nearly 3pm. I need to fit in a shopping spree." I announced cheerfully while glancing at my cellphone. It was time to go. "Zack, we'll continue your cardiovascular training tomorrow." I told Zack gently, sweeping past him towards the door. "Hey, what about me? We haven't even finished our game of chess." Cody complained. Taking a step back towards Cody, I deftly snatched up my last remaining knight in the little 'L' shape that I loved so much. "Check mate." I answered simply, giving Cody a brilliant smile before quitting my suite.

The drive downtown took a surprisingly short time. When I stepped out of my car, I was disappointed that I couldn't deliberate any longer. I asked my driver to wait and then I began my walk towards the front door. I approached an exquisite townhouse with sombre black gates enveloping the property. I passed two rows of flowers growing on both sides of the pathway as I strolled along. The flowers, lavender plumbagos as I recall, were beautiful as always, a painful reminder. And then I was at the door, gently grasping the brass door handle. A few seconds passed and then the door opened. A cheerful middle-aged woman stood before me, recognition flickering in her eyes. "Miss London, how lovely to see you again!" she greeted sincerely, her dimpled cheeks flushed with delight. "Thank you Emily, it's lovely to see you too. I wish they were under better conditions. I hope I haven't disrupted your day." I replied in a guilty voice as she invited me into the exquisite house. "Not at all Miss London, I'm just preparing dinner for Miss Samantha. She'll be home around 5pm. You're more than welcome to join us for dinner, I'm sure Miss Samantha would be happy to see you." Emily pressed in a kind voice. "Thank you Emily, but not tonight. I'll be dining at the hotel. I just came for Brandy's things." I answered in a weary tone. "Of course Miss London. I understand how difficult this is for you. Won't you please come this way?" Emily asked me in a polite tone, steering me forward by my arm in a sympathetic manner.

She led me to a comfortably furnished study, Brandy's study. "I brought out as many boxes of Miss Belinda's things as I could find. In fact, I've left everything just the way she would've wanted, the way Miss Belinda would've wanted. Miss Samantha didn't want me to change anything until you'd sifted through everything." Emily continued with forced calm. I appreciate the sentiment from both Emily and Samantha, especially Samantha. I don't think she held any ill-will against me, she had always far more reserved than Brandy. But she was kind in her own way. "That's fine Emily, everything's perfect. Thank you for this." I responded graciously, squeezing her hand gently. "Take as much time as you need. I'll tell the other servants not to disturb you." Emily concluded while handing me a key to the door. She lingered only for a second before departing, leaving me to my own troubled thoughts. Everything was exactly the same. But that was the problem, it was too static. Nothing had visibly changed, except for the ranging emotions in my head. So I tried to focus on my task instead. I carefully locked the study door with the key Emily had given me. At least Emily had remembered that both Brandy and I had enjoyed our privacy while in the study. Ignoring the boxes, I walked to Brandy's desk and pressed a button underneath. Two portions of the bookcase on the wall slid apart, revealing a secret entrance. I walked inside calmly and pressed a button on the interior wall, closing the bookcase behind me. I stood alone in a room filled with filing cabinets. I located the file I wanted fairly quickly, but still I lingered in the secret room. I sank down to the floor, the file abandoned next to me, the past enveloping me with cryptic clarity…

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**A year ago…**

"_Willy-kins, I had to ground our London. It would really mean a lot to me if you supported me on this." I remember standing in my suite that day, my entire body shaking with repressed rage. I lost count of how many there'd actually been before her, but Brenda (Brandy) Russell was the newest addition to my family, my newest step-mother. If you could even call what I had a family to begin with. My mother was permanently shacking up in Barbados with a bartender half her age named Cristo. I barely saw my own father, except for when he was on business in Boston. Where did this jumped-up cheerleader get off playing house with me? She was only a few years older than me, that made her practically past puberty. It had been a week since Brandy had rocked up at the Tipton, throwing her marriage to my father in my face and trying her hand at bonding with her new step-daughter. But this time she had really crossed a line by getting my own father to ground me for buying an immodestly-sized skirt and tank-top. _

_But I crossed the line and really hurt Brandy's feelings when I questioned my father's love for her, hinting at an early divorce before the warranties on the various wedding presents had expired. It was Moseby who actually put me right and got me to see the light. So Brandy was ultra annoying, but she did care about me in her strange amateurish way. That was several rungs higher than the treatment I'd received from my former step-mothers. To them, I'd been invisible or a tiresome nuisance when they cared to notice. In that moment, I knew that Brandy was different. And if I gave her a chance, I somehow knew that she would surprise me in a good way. So I swallowed my pride, said I was sorry and patched things up with my new step-mother. _

_Boy, was I glad I did that. Because once I got to know Brandy, I found out that she was really cool, fun and smart. I let her in on my little secret early on about playing dumb. Brandy was really understanding and sympathised a great deal. So she made a compromise. When we were in public together or around Daddy, she would humour my quirks and obtuse monologues. But when we were alone together, we would play chess, do cross-word puzzles and even have scintillating conversations about culture, art and politics if there was time. But I could talk to Brandy about tons of other stuff too: shopping, school and, boys. When Lance had broken up with me, I called Brandy who was on a business trip in London at the time. Brandy flew back to Boston the next day. She had said the conference had been really boring and that no one had actually needed her there. But I knew better, she flew back to Boston because she knew I had needed her. That meant the world to me. My relationship with Brandy was becoming more complex and ambiguous: she was now a confidante, a best friend, an older sister, a maternal figure. A mom, a real mother. I didn't think it was possible for me to love someone as much as I loved her. And I knew that Brandy felt the same way about me. I could see that she loved my father too. I began to see more of my father in Boston when Brandy was there too. And it surprised me when I saw my father's face on occasions when he looked at her, realising that he loved her too. When the three of us were together, everything seemed more normal, more tranquil, more tangible. We were a family. _

_But not every family is perfect. Brandy, too worked as much as my father. Her job as a personal buyer for Armani took her all over the globe for weeks at a time. I missed her intensely during these times, finding myself slipping into bouts of sulky depression. But Brandy always made time for me whenever she could; she once took me on a shopping spree to Singapore for the weekend. Brandy had also purchased a townhouse in an upmarket suburb in Boston. So whenever she was home, I would pack several suitcases and leave the Tipton for days at a time to spend time with her. Lately I'd been impatient to see her, more so than usual. I needed to talk to her. I was worried about her. The times I'd seen her in the past few months, she hadn't been herself. Always stressed out and weary. Brandy herself admitted to me that she hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately. And then there were the strange cuts and bruises on her body. At first I suspected that my father had something to do with it, but Brandy denied it vehemently. And I believed her. After all, I knew my father. He was an egotistical and inconsiderate asshole, but he wasn't abusive. But then, what was wrong with Brandy? Was she in some kind of trouble? I toyed with the idea that she might be having an affair, but even that sounded implausible. Despite their separate lives, Brandy was devoted to my father, more than any of his former wives. _

_The day I found out more than I bargained for, I was heading to her townhouse. We had made plans to make more popcorn than our stomachs could handle and have a movie marathon. I was early, hoping we could talk before we started watching the movies. I thought it was strange that Emily wasn't in her usual place in the kitchen. But I didn't trouble myself further with it as I made my way to Brandy's study. She spent more time in there than in any other actual room in the house; she always had mounds of paperwork to do. Sure enough, the door to the study was open, but no Brandy. That's when I saw the bookcase standing apart in two, revealing an opening in the wall. Then I heard the murmur of breathing: deliberate and ragged, as if the air was trapped in pockets of the lungs. I'd never been more afraid in my entire life until that moment in time. It set the course for the year ahead of me, for my entire existence. _

_I took a few paces forward and found Brandy sitting on the floor in what looked like a small room, filing cabinets resting against all four walls. Brandy was a mess: her hair resting in untidy strands around her face, saturated in sweat from the glistening beads on her forehead and cheeks. Her face had streaks of dirt around it, including her clothes, a black pants suit. I stared down in horror at her knee, her pants rolled up neatly toward her thigh. Her left knee cap had a large laceration in it, the blood saturating her pants and spilling onto the grey floor. But the most horrific of it all was the fact that I had interrupted her attempts to stitch up the wound herself, a portion of black thread crudely woven into her skin. I knelt down by her side, my entire body shaking violently. "London, what are you doing?" Brandy asked weakly, the colour draining from her face. "I could ask you the same thing. What the hell happened to you Brandy?" I asked in a shaky voice. "It was an accident, I was careless." Brandy answered grimly, chuckling wryly while closing her eyes and clutching her injured knee. "Shit Brandy, you don't look good. We need to get you to the hospital." I remarked in a scared voice, part of my shock evaporating as common-sense reappeared once more. "No London, no hospitals. I have to stitch up my leg. Fuck, I really should have paid more attention in Health class in high school instead of skipping to make out with Kyle Matthews in the back of his car." Brandy joked through gritted teeth, clearly in a lot of pain. "Brandy, you need professional help." I answered tersely, rising to my feet. "London, no! I can't go to the hospital." Brandy pleaded painstakingly, the fear apparent in her eyes. "Brandy, do you trust me?" I asked her seriously, looking her in the eye. "You know I do, but-" "But nothing Brandy, we need to fix up your leg. I'll call Dr. Hamilton, my private physician. He's extremely discreet." I replied calmly, while grabbing my cellphone. Dr. Hamilton was on my speed dial, even for when I broke a nail. _

_Dr. Hamilton arrived in all but 10 minutes. Like clock work, he went to work, first setting Brandy's leg (because it was broken) and then stitching it up expertly. I stayed with Brandy the entire time, squeezing her hand reassuringly. And then he was finished, calmly prescribing Brandy some pain killers and antibiotics after placing her broken leg in a cast. All the while his eyes were enflamed with intense curiosity and worry. But still he said nothing. Perhaps he hoped I would explain on my next visit. But I knew now that explaining anything from now on would be next to impossible. After instructing Emily to clean up the horrendous mess in the secret room, I gently led Brandy upstairs so she could rest. "I'll lie down London, but I'm not tired." Brandy remarked stubbornly, while I helped her get comfortable. "Fine, don't sleep then. We can talk instead." I replied seriously. Brandy winced, I'm guessing it wasn't from the pain but because she knew what I was going to ask her. "London, my life is extremely complicated right now. I'm not sure you'll understand." Brandy began cautiously. "Brandy, I have an I.Q. of 145; take your best shot." I commanded in a cocky tone. "Your life would be in danger if I told you," Brandy continued urgently, the fear apparent in her eyes. "I like danger," "Hmph, you say that now, but if you knew-" "Then just tell me what's going on Brandy. I know you want to. I'm worried about you. I love you, there's nothing you can say to me that will change that." I told her firmly, squeezing her hand. _

_After that, there was no more hesitation. Brandy took a deep breath, looked me in the eye and told me everything. Her position as a personal buyer was a cover for her long absences. She actually worked for a secret organisation named DEMON, a division of the CIA. "CIA…you mean, you're a spy?" "I believe the correct term is espionage intelligence or a secret agent." I was more surprised than anyone that my reaction was excitement and not horror. _

"_Brandy, this is so beyond cool! Oh my God, you're an actual secret agent! What's your code name? Does it end in 007?"_

"_It's just Brandy London, Agent Brandy."_

"_What about headquarters?"_

"_In a secret location downtown."_

"_Oh my gosh, this is so wild Brandy! Do you have your own gun?"_

"_I have several, all stashed behind the bookcase in the study."_

"_Medical insurance and dental?"_

"_That and two life insurance policies."_

"_Do you have a bullet-proof car?"_

"_My SLK Kompressor."_

"_Get out, I just thought you liked the tinted windows."_

"_Does Daddy know?" I asked in a hushed voice, everything suddenly feeling ten times more serious. "No he doesn't know. I've thought about telling him so many times, but I chickened out every time. It's better this way, Wilfred not knowing. The less he knows, the more I can keep him safe. I've made a lot of enemies in my line of work London. If they ever knew about my relationship with your father, his safety would be jeopardised. And I couldn't let that happen. I love your father enough to lie." "Don't worry Brandy, your secret's safe with me. I won't tell Daddy."_

_Not telling my father was just another one of those secrets that Brandy and I kept. Brandy began to confide in me even more, particularly about her missions. Now I waited with even more anticipation for Brandy's return to Boston. This time my longing was tainted with worry and anxiety, her safety foremost in my mind. "London relax, I don't think it's possible to shop to death." Cody reminded me calmly. I gave him a shaky laugh, knowing full well that he'd come uncomfortably close to the truth. Every time she entered the Tipton after a mission, I'd be sitting on my favourite recliner in the lobby. It didn't matter how tired she was or looked; she'd always drop her bags in expectation, looking every bit as eager to see me too as she hugged me tightly. And then we'd retire to my suite so she could rest and then she would relay stories about her latest adventures to me. These were my favourite parts, hearing about the criminals she'd arrested and secret syndicates that she'd unearthed. "I want to be a secret agent too Brandy." I stated one night, finally voicing my deepest wish. "No you don't London. I chose this life for myself, but I wouldn't wish it on anyone else." Brandy replied sternly, her eyes becoming alert once more. "I'm not naïve Brandy. I know about the risks and dangers. And I could be good at it." "I know yo could, but you're still too young to know what the future holds." "Will you at least promise me that we'll revisit this topic at a later stage?" "I promise you this: when the time is right, you will know what to do." Brandy concluded before planting a tiny kiss on my forehead. _

_And then she left yet again, for close to a month this time. My world was slowly sinking into a hazy stupor while she updated me on her latest mission over email. She had taken it upon herself and successfully caught and detained one Reuben Marshall, a drug lord for a drug trafficking syndicate named OPIUM. I could tell she was sleep-deprived, but she sounded enthusiastic, so I tried to be happy for her. But then her emails became more morose and fewer. The interrogations with Marshall had been successful, but other complications had arisen. Brandy had refused to tell me in exact details what that meant, but assured me nonetheless that it would be resolved. All too soon for my liking, and too final a conclusion. But something else occurred a week before it happened that became the catalyst for fracturing my world even more._

_Brandy returned from her most recent mission, but she didn't come to the Tipton. She went straight to her townhouse and avoided my calls, emails, text messages and written letters for 4 days. Having finally lost all sense of propriety, I drove to her townhouse, wanting to get to the bottom of yet another mystery. Emily admitted me willingly, but refused to meet my gaze. I went straight to the study and found Brandy yet again in the secret room. This time she wasn't bleeding as far as I could tell, yet the tears ran steadily down her face, days of crying profusely distorting her lovely face. "Brandy, what is it? What's happened?" I asked her steadily, fearing her answer before she even gave it. "Wilfred admitted to me that he's been having an affair." Brandy said without emotion, her face streaked with white lines from the tears. For the moment, I only had strength to ask one question. "Who?" "With his secretary, Cindy." I remembered Cindy: 24 years of age, Stamford graduate, eager demeanour, wore far too little to work. I hated her already. _

"_How long?" "He only slept with her twice, so I don't know if it counts as an affair." Brandy remarked grimly. "You're kidding right? My father fucked his secretary twice and you're okay with that?" I spat furiously, rising to my feet. "I never said I was okay with it London, I'm devastated." Brandy swallowed softly, a fresh batch of tears escaping her face. My anger dissipated at the sight and I knelt beside her again. "Of course you're not okay with it, I'm sorry Brandy. I know this is hard for you, but we'll get through this. We'll hire the best divorce attorney –" "Divorce? London, I'm not divorcing your father." Brandy interrupted seriously. "Brandy, what are you talking about? Look, don't underestimate Daddy. If you don't act first, he'll try to enforce your pre-nup agreement and a smaller settlement." "London, you don't understand. Your father doesn't want to divorce me. He's not leaving me. He told me about Cindy because it's over with her. He wants to start afresh in our marriage." "And you believed him? Oh my God…" "London, please understand. Your father does love me. He just made a mistake."_

"_Bullshit! Do you know how many times I've heard him say that to his other ex-wives? To my own mother? I've even heard him rehearse that line in the bathroom mirror." I retorted coldly, tears escaping my eyes. "I thought you were smarter than this Brandy." "London, I know this difficult for you to hear. But I love your father and I want this marriage to work. I'm prepared to put this behind me and forgive him." Brandy answered intently. "Yeah, until the next time he decides to fuck one of his subordinates." I retorted maliciously. "London, I know you're upset. But he is still your father." "Fuck that Brandy! Father? What father?! He's a lying cheating bastard! And you're an idiot for thinking this will turn out differently from what history dictates. I'm outta here." I concluded viciously. "London, please don't go-"But I ignored her, slamming the door behind me and sprinted to the car waiting outside for me. The car took off and I didn't look back once. Even if I had, my blinding tears wouldn't have allowed me one last look at the mother I loved. _

_Without Brandy's company, the week was easily the most miserable of my life, save for what was to come. But I was too angry and heartbroken, the emotions tearing me from limb to limb. I ignored Brandy's attempts at conversation this time, barred my suite to all but Maddie. I was a mess. I found myself on that fateful day sitting with my fair-weather BFF's, Chelsea and Portia at a fashion show, sullen and bored to tears if I had any left. And that's when my phone vibrated violently in my pocket. I opened the flap of my cellphone and checked my text messages. I had a message from my friend Marilyn. She was an intern at the Boston Herald. She always gave me the scoop on any big news happening in the city. It read: 'Chaos at the Chrysler Building. Hostages taken, OPIUM claiming responsibility.' I read the text thrice and my brain started churning. This was the complication Brandy had been referring to. DEMON's intelligence had discovered that OPIUM wanted to get their hands on the shares of the Bank of America. The CEO of the Bank of America, Theodore Bosworth, had refused to sign the shares over to Alexei Novak. Bosworth was due at the Chrysler Building this morning for a press conference regarding their new venture with GM Motors. OPIUM had taken the building and its occupants hostage to put pressure on Bosworth to reconsider. They were trying to force his hand. _

_I stood up in the middle of the fashion show. Every annoyed face in the auditorium turned to face me. "Like, what are you doing?" Chelsea asked in a nasal whisper. "Something's come up, I have to go." I answered tersely, grabbing my purse. "You can't go London! They're serving crab cakes after!" Portia whined in the darkness. "Save me one!" I hissed, fleeing the auditorium. "Chrysler Building, step on it!" I barked at my driver as he began driving. I had no idea what I was going to do or say, but I knew I had to see Brandy. I had a very bad feeling about all of this. _

_I got to my destination in 10 minutes flat. To my astonishment, a flood of people were rushing out of the Chrysler Building in the multitudes. Naturally, the press were there, reporters, cameramen and photographers on hand. I recognised a few DEMON agents and sprinted towards them. "Miss, you need to stay back," a security guard commanded, pushing me back. "It's okay, I know her," a woman chided gently. It was Eleanor Truscott, Brandy's superior. "Eleanor, thank God! What's happening? Where's Brandy?" I demanded hurriedly. "She's inside the building. London, you shouldn't have come here." Eleanor stated grimly. "I need to see Brandy, Eleanor!" I exclaimed impatiently, the fear taking over me. "Are those the hostages?" I asked in a different voice, watching the throngs. "Yes they are. Brandy negotiated for their release. OPIUM's letting them go." Eleanor replied. There was no trace of triumph or relief in her voice, only regret. What was going on?_

_As if to answer my question, Brandy was suddenly outside again, slowly walking towards us, wearing a bullet-proof vest over her clothing. Her face was expressionless. "London, what are you doing here?" She asked me tersely, glancing at Eleanor out of the corner of her eye. "I needed to see you, to warn you…" "It's okay London, everything's fine. The hostages are safe." Brandy replied soothingly. But she didn't look happy, only determined. "How much time do we have?" Eleanor asked of Brandy in a sombre voice. "Just under 10 minutes. I'm going down to the basement. It's the only way to contain it, so that only the immediate building is claimed." Brandy responded calmly. Contain it! Claim it? What the hell is going on? "Brandy, what –" My question died on my lips when I looked down at her vest. It wasn't bullet-proof, it had a bomb strapped to it, C4 by the looks of it. And then I understood. _

"_Brandy, no!" I roared frantically, trying to grab at her. "Don't do this! Just put the bomb back, the hostages are safe!" I pleaded vehemently. "No they're not London! None of us are safe! The area needs to be evacuated, there's not enough time to dispose of the bomb!" Brandy snapped angrily. "Okay, but you don't have to go back into the building. You don't have to…" I trailed off painstakingly. "London, one of those OPIUM thugs strapped this to a little girl. I won't let anyone else die here!" "Except yourself!" I retorted furiously. I hated her intensely in this moment. Why was she doing this to me? "How many square meters will the bomb cover?" Eleanor asked calmly. "I'm hoping about 1,500 square feet give or take." Brandy replied mechanically. "That's about the area of the Chrysler Building." Eleanor stated cryptically. _

"_Brandy, wait, I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry that I yelled at you last week and called you an idiot. Please don't do this! My car's right here, let's just get in and drive back to the Tipton. Please Brandy," I pleaded helplessly, my tears blinding my vision. I felt Brandy's fingers wipe away the tears from my cheeks. "London, I forgave you for that right after you said it. That's not why I'm doing this," Brandy answered with a sigh. "I could never stay angry at you. You're like a daughter to me, that will never change." "But I need you Brandy," "London, you need to go. Don't remember me this way. Remember that I love your father. Never forget that I love you, forever." Brandy whispered into my ear, pulling me in for a tight embrace. "Brandy," I murmured, unable to say anymore, my breath coming out in gasps. "I have to go. Remember what I said: when the time comes, you'll know what to do. I love you, London." Brandy murmured in a steady voice. "I love you too, Brandy. Out of all of them, you're my favourite. I love you the most." I choked out. She smiled at me one last time before sprinting into the building. _

_Then the DEMON agents pulled me back. They piled me into one of their SUV's and drove me a few feet away. The car jerked to a halt and then I heard a deafening crash. I didn't care that I was deaf or blind, I got out of the car and started running back. I needed to know for sure. The horror of the sight before me took my breath away. The magnificent architecture of the Chrysler Building was charred beyond recognition. Its remnants were being licked away by orange flames and billows of white smoke. It all seemed very apocalyptic , but it was only one building. One person whose fate was decided. I sank to my knees, my entire body aflame with unspeakable pain. Brandy, my reason for living had vanished into the wisps of smoke, out of my world. _

_And then I felt my heart stop too as I collapsed into rubble and ash, more willing than ever to end my life…_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_I remember spending a record of 45 minutes at the hospital that day, having collapsed at the former Chrysler Building. The doctors checked my vitals, but couldn't find anything wrong with me physically. But my eyes were dormant and that worried them. I felt like screaming out, that's because there's no sign of life in there you morons. Do you hear me? I said I'm dead already, don't bother with you ridiculous tests. Put that in your shiny medical degree and smoke it for all I care, dumbass. But I couldn't move or breathe. Brandy's calculation had been slightly off. The top floor of the AT&T Building had also caught fire. Luckily, the occupants of the neighbouring buildings had also been evacuated before the bomb had gone off. But essentially, only the Chrysler Building had contained the bomb blast. OPIUM had planed it all too carefully, knowing the DEMON agents wouldn't be able to diffuse or dispose of the bomb in time even if all the hostages were evacuated. One or several hundred would be sacrificed all the same. But I didn't give a damn about the hostages. Would any one of them have dared to sacrifice their own life for the sake of the others? They would've died at least knowing their lives had been intact. I was alive and felt more maimed than before. _

_And then there was the funeral to consider. Even though there weren't any remains to bury, my father still insisted on purchasing an extravagantly large coffin made out of solid gold. I hadn't told him that I'd been there when Brandy had died; he still thought I'd been at the fashion show when it happened. I made Chelsea and Portia swear upon loss of life never to tell anyone that I'd left in the middle of the show. I didn't have the energy or the patience to point out the futility of it all. My father's efforts were in vain, trying to depict himself as the sorrowful widow and loving husband. I know the truth and I despised him. But I couldn't say or do anything; I too had to sit quietly and put up with his pretence, ignoring my urges to make it a double burial. Zack, Cody, Mr. Moseby and Maddie also attended the funeral. I was extremely grateful to them; it made it more bearable to stand next to my father at the burial without pitching him head first into the empty grave. All I remember about the procession was the endless flash of cameras blinking in my face. And then it was black as I buried my face into Moseby's chest while clutching Maddie's hand furiously. Moseby cupped my head with his hand and Maddie squeezed my hand gently, both of them allowing me to cry freely._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxx _

_The reading of the will took place a day after the funeral. It was fairly straightforward. Brandy had left my father and myself a considerable amount of money as well as some of her personal effects. A sizable portion of money had been left to a charity she supported. Brandy had left her townhouse to her eldest sister Samantha, her remaining living relative. And lastly, Brandy had left some valuables to her trusted housekeeper Emily as well as an annuity throughout her lifetime. At the end of the reading, Brandy's lawyer called me to his side and told me that Brandy had instructed him to inform me that she had left me a personal letter in her desk in her old study that she wished me to read in private. My father raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing otherwise. I was secretly grateful for this. This meant yet another trip to the townhouse which I had tried to avoid. But my curiosity was certainly aroused by what else Brandy had left to say to me. _

_I made the trip in record time and located the letter in Brandy's desk. The letter was roughly 15 pages, containing personal words from Brandy which make me cry later as I recall. But the final paragraph caught me completely off guard:_

'_Having composed this final portion of my letter only 2 weeks prior, I presumed that DEMON's attempts to thwart OPIUM's terrorist attacks on the city of Boston had gone awry. Therefore, I say this next part with the utmost sincerity and seriousness. You expressed a wish to become a secret agent to me previously. If you still wish to pursue this, I have asked Eleanor if she would speak to Omar Malcolm, the head of DEMON, on your behalf and also undertake to be your mentor during your training. You will find a cheque enclosed in this envelope. You must place this money in a separate bank account without your father or anyone else's knowledge. I have set aside this money for any necessaries you require during the course of your new vocation. The decision is now placed before you; now choose your fate carefully as I chose mine. I will love you always, London, my favourite daughter. Till we meet again someday._

_From your loving mother, _

_Brandy.' _

_I looked at the cheque in the envelope and I gasped. It was the value of 10 million dollars. I wasted no time in contacting Eleanor. She affirmed everything that Brandy had written in her letter. Omar had already been consulted; everything was already in place to begin my training. Now I only had to decide my fate. It was frustratingly easy. The hole in my heart would never be replaced, but I had something I could do, something I could be good at. A real purpose far beyond the reaches of a rich heiress. I could fight back against the evil that had claimed Brandy's life, against all the injustices within my grasp. Brandy would want me to do this now, more than ever with OPIUM's syndicate increasing across the East Coast. No matter how long it took, OPIUM would pay. OPIUM would die too…_

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

I had no idea how I had gotten back to the Tipton. I was acutely aware that my eyes were blurry which meant that I had been crying. Luckily, I had remembered to bring Reuben Marshall's file with me back to my suite. I opened the door to my suite and jumped a few feet in the air at the sight of Maddie waiting for me in the dining room. "Maddie, what are you doing here? How did you get in?" I demanded hysterically, still recovering from my fright. "Mr. Moseby let me in. I wanted to apologise about yesterday for being so mean to you. I was just irritable about school and working a double shift. London, what's wrong?" Maddie asked anxiously, noticing my face for the first time. I hesitated, what should I tell her? The file was mercifully stashed in my shoulder bag. Maddie had been wonderful after Brandy's, always listening attentively and letting me cry unabashedly. So I tried the truth, a portion of it. "I was at Brandy's townhouse earlier. Emily called me, she found some things that had belonged to Brandy she thought I'd want. It was just hard going through her stuff." I admitted truthfully. Maddie looked on the verge of tears when she approached me and hugged me tightly. "Oh London, I'm so sorry," she murmured softly and meaning it. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" she asked me probingly, searching my eyes. "Maddie, don't you have any homework to do?" "I did it during my break earlier." "What about your parents? Won't they be mad if you don't come home?" I asked worriedly. "I'll call my mom and let her know that I'm staying here at the Tipton. Besides, my parents will be too busy fighting to miss me." Maddie joked feebly. "Maddie, you've just worked two shifts today. Aren't you tired?" I asked her curiously. "Don't worry about me London, I'm okay. I'm more concerned about you right now. I'll always be here whenever you need me. I'm your friend." Maddie replied soberly while giving me a small smile. It had been a long day, but I didn't want to be alone right now. And Maddie was here right now, Maddie was still here. "Yes please," I choked, squeezing her hand gently. I needed this moment, these few hours to be London. Because life would begin again tomorrow and Agent L would have to face the evils of the outside world, once again wearing her poker face.

_**A/N: Shoo, that's that! Thank you for bearing with me. I don't know when I'll finish the third chapter or what I'm even going to say. But please read and review, let me know what you think. I really like the last sentence if I do say so myself. I was listening to Lady Ga-Ga at the time, LOL. A special thanks to PerennialKillJoy for proofreading this chapter. Enjoy!**_


	3. Road Blocks and Ski Masks

_**A/N: Hey all, I'm so sorry that I'm only updating now. March has been a crazy month. One of my best friends was involved in a car accident at the beginning of the month, it was my brother's birthday a couple of days ago. And in-between, I'm a law student with an array of assignments and readings to do. I hope you didn't think I forgot about this story. I will try to have chapter 4 up sooner than this. I'm still not sure about the title of this chapter, but I couldn't think of something cooler. I do apologise if some of the details (especially towards the end) don't make any sense, it will become clearer by the next chapter. Otherwise, enjoy!**_

**Chapter 3: Road Blocks and Ski Masks**

The night dragged on after the emotional turmoil which I had endured during the daylight. It was good to be back in my suite, to cleanse myself of the tortured memories of the void in my chest. I knew I could never fill the void again, but living in itself became my new assignment, my new challenge. I knew I couldn't sleep tonight; it was the only way to keep the nightmares at bay. So I waited for Maddie (lying beside me in my bed) to fall asleep first. For a minute I envied her tranquil face. It must be nice to dream of Honor Roll, Pulitzer prizes or maybe just being rich. I could dream the same things if I wanted to, except the being rich part. God, I wish I was dumb.

But I'm not. Just because no one else knew that didn't make it any less true. So I did the smart thing by feigning sleep initially. It wasn't long before Maddie begun snoring, thinking she was following in my footsteps. It was 1am and I tiptoed to my dining room table, carrying the precious file. I put my reading glasses on and began studying Reuben Marshall's file compiled by Brandy. Within an hour, I had photocopied the entire thing, highlighted important bits and made some notes of my own.

Reuben Marshall, Caucasian male, 29 years old. Born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio. Completed high school and received his diploma. Moved to Boston at the age of 18. Did a series of odd jobs: bell-hop, tele-marketer, black-jack dealer. His first encounter with Optimum was at the age of 21, running errands for Alexei Novak. Worked his way through the organization, Novak finally entrusting him with more responsibility entailing the running of Opium's offshore holdings in South East Asia. First became acquainted with Laurent Savoy, another new comer to the drug trade in Beijing some four years ago, a former financial consultant. The two have worked closely together under the close supervision of Novak, Curtis Owen and Maxwell Kline, the so-called Trinity of the organization. Expected promotion of Savoy in the near future of Opium's interests along the East Coast.

And with that, I spent another hour typing up my report for Omar, detailing Brandy's synopsis of the situation as well as my own commentary on the situation as it stood. By 4am I had finally settled into a dreamless sleep, a nice change of pace. At 9am I found myself once again at DEMON's headquarters, presenting my findings to my superiors. I ignored most of Eleanor's non-verbal cues regarding my near melt-down during debriefing. But I left the meeting feeling slightly warmer towards Eleanor and all was forgiven. She was just doing her job, I really needed to keep my emotions in check. No matter what, the job came first.

But not today. Most of the DEMON agents were in the field scouring the city for Reuben Marshall save for myself. My part in the mission would come towards the end, Omar had reassured confidently. So I had to keep my cell phone on me at all times for when that special text message came through. For the afternoon, I contented myself with a swim. Moseby always made sure that the Tipton's pool on the roof was available for me alone whenever I had need of it. And I really do mean anytime. I once went through a period of intense insomnia and decided to take a swim at 3 in the morning. Needless to say, Moseby took care of it.

I sighed in contentment when I stepped towards the pool. A set of towels and bathrobe had been placed on a deckchair just for me. I cautiously tested the water with my big toe, relishing the sudden warmth coursing through my foot. The pool was set to the ideal temperature - 37°C. And that was only one person's doing: Lance. He was not too far from me, fishing a few stray leaves out of the pool with a net. It's funny that I didn't notice him standing there all along when I first arrived. I guess I was just used to his union with the pool and all things related to the Tipton that I barely noticed anymore how much he blended into the surroundings.

Lance greeted me with a small smile and continued his work while I slipped out of my bathrobe. I noticed an approving smirk playing on his mouth out of the corner of my eye at my skimpy red bikini and I smiled inwardly. I often marveled at how the guy who had dumped me a lifetime ago could still look at me occasionally like he still had a major boner for me. Sometimes I really can't figure Lance Fishman out. For a simple guy, he surer was mysterious. "Hey Lance," I greeted finally, feeling strangely happy to see him. "Hey yourself London. You've been a stranger around these parts," Lance greeted in a knowing drawl. "Who's been taking up your precious pool time?" Lance teased casually, grinning from ear to ear. "No one important, I assure you. I figured I'd do some laps this morning before my cell phone starts ringing incessantly." I answered simply with a small smile. "How's the water temperature for you?" Lance inquired seriously. "It's just right, room temperature?" I asked curiously. "Hmm, give or take 0.7°C." Lance answered easily. "I assume you took the liberty of checking the pH balance as well?" I countered, pursing my lips slightly. "Naturally. It's 7." Lance responded with a triumphant smirk. "Exactly?" I questioned skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "Exactly. The new filter I installed a month ago is extremely conducive to outdoor conditions." Lance replied nonchalantly. My face relaxed and I smiled once again. "I'll say it again Lance. Moseby would be hard pressed to find an employee as dedicated to their job as you are." I stated sincerely. "Well, it's not hard to do. Mr. Moseby's a great boss. And I like it here at the Tipton. I get to be close to all the things that I love." Lance answered with strange intensity, his eyes locked on mine. There he goes again, I thought to myself while inhaling a mouthful of air back into my lungs, trying to taser me with his mixed signals. I managed an expression that was half smiling and half blushing.

Lance was clearly finished cleaning the pool's surface. He leant on the end of the pool net comfortably, a pensive expression on his face. "I'm glad to see you smiling. I know it's been a rough week for you," Lance stated seriously, his smile dropping. When I continued to stare at him in confusion, he elaborated. "Maddie texted me this morning. She told me this was the week when Brandy passed away a year ago. I'm really sorry London." Lance explained ruefully, sounding like he really meant it. Curse Maddie, when had she even gotten time to text Lance this morning?! I felt strangely sensitive about other people outside of my inner circle knowing about Brandy's death and the turmoil it inspired inside of me. Not that people like Portia or Chelsea were exactly sensitive about my pain; they acted like Brandy had gone into exile in a foreign country. But for the moment, my annoyance towards Maddie was quelled when I saw Lance's warm brown eyes fixed on me with understanding, not pity.

"Yeah, yesterday really sucked. But I'm feeling a lot better today. I appreciate your concern Lance, thank you." I responded with forced calm, feeling slightly better. "I just wanted to say that if you wanna talk, I'm here. My grandpa died a year ago too. I understand how hard it is when you lose someone you really love. Someone who you can't imagine not being in your life forever" Lance stated seriously. Now I was stunned. "Grandpa Fishman?" I spluttered in alarm. "Was it his heart? But I thought he had a transplant?" I asked in bewilderment. "He did, but his body just didn't take to the new heart. His vital organs collapsed a few days after the surgery." Lance explained soberly. "Lance, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I know how close you were to your grandpa." I responded sincerely, touching his hand for a moment. "It's okay London, I understand. You were going through your own stuff. He had a long full life and it was his time. It wasn't like with Brandy. She was young; she had her whole life ahead of her. She didn't have to die the way she did." Lance answered quietly. Again, there was that understanding on Lance's part, as if he were in on the secret too. It unnerved and intrigued me all at once.

You're right about that. It's tough when you lose someone you love. I guess you just have to compartmentalize it and carry on day by day." I responded calmly. "That's true," Lance agreed softly. "You've got a busy week ahead of you." There it was again, that undercurrent of omniscient presumption. Lance's words hadn't been a question, it was a statement. "A very busy week – I'm not quite sure how it will end." I admitted quietly. "Well as I always say, you end up exactly where you're supposed to be." Lance concluded in a chipper tone. I'd had about enough of this cryptic conversation. So I shook my head laughingly and dove gracefully into the pool. And there I remained for a few seconds, completely submerged beneath the water's surface. All I could see was Lance's face cutting across the surface in ripples of mysterious delight.

All week long I waited for news about Reuben Marshall. Eleanor had told me to stay incognito in the city and await instructions. That meant I was in on the plan to capture and detain Marshall in one way or the other. But that also meant no spontaneous shopping sprees across the globe and sitting around waiting for a signal which could come at any time? Did I mention that this job was not only thankless sometimes, but that alcohol was a prerequisite for such occasions? So while I waited, I did what any girl my age would do to alleviate the stress: call my girlfriends over and have a slumber party.

The party so to speak, began earlier than I had actually intended. But in hindsight, I do believe the timing had been perfect. It was 2pm on a Friday afternoon. The girls (Maddie, Corrie and Mary-Margaret) and I had just returned from a shopping spree a boutique downtown. Since they were all working class girls, I generously splurged on my credit card and treated them to an array of clothing, shoes and accessories that I was regularly accustomed to. We returned to my suite and were now in the process of enjoying a series of facials and hot-stone massages. "Thanks again for doing this London. I'm having a great time so far," Maddie thanked me sincerely with a broad smile on her face. "Yeah London, I just love these shoes you bought me. I just got a new puppy, can I name it after you?" Corrie squealed excitedly, clapping her hands together. "No, you may not name some mangy mutt after me!" I exclaimed reproachfully. "Knock it off Corrie, we don't want a repeat of the restraining order. I can keep this manicure set yes?" Mary-Margaret demanded imperiously. "Knock yourself out," I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand. "Of course not. Besides, that was a misunderstanding. I was sleepwalking, that's how I ended up in London's bed in the middle of the night." Corrie explained feebly. Maddie, Mary and I gazed at one another, all clearly thinking the same thing: bullshit.

And that's when my cell phone rang. I had been expecting the phone call all along and somehow it still surprised me. "Uh London, what caller would you actually identify with a Powerpuff Girls' ringtone?" Maddie asked me quizzically. So much for being inconspicuous. All of them were now looking at me expectantly. In all my preparation for the mission, I had completely forgotten to come up with a plausible reason for making a quick exit, especially if I had company when the call came through. Oh shit, say something already. I've lied about enormous secrets like nuclear reactors, human trafficking and insider trading. Why can't I come up with a teensie alibi? "London?" Mary asked me in a concerned tone. "Uh, I set the Powerpuff Girls theme song for my, uh, favourite boutique in the Tri-State area, Trés Bliss. Yeah, I have them on speed dial." I explained quickly. "But why are they calling you?" Corrie asked curiously. Because they want me to come retrieve Reuben Marshall from one of their dressing rooms. "Because uh, Molly, the uh owner gave me really hot tip on a pair of boots I've been dying to get from them for months. And they've finally arrived. So I'm really sorry to skip out early on the slumber party, but I've gotta go get them now. Buh-bye." I greeted silkily.

"Now wait a minute, why don't we all come with you?" Corrie suggested pleasantly. "Say what?" I squeaked involuntarily. "Well, I love going window shopping and I'd love to see the boots you're getting. I'm sure they're fabulous. We should all go!" Corrie announced while clapping her hands together. "No!" I exclaimed passionately. "No?" Maddie and Mary asked with frowns on their faces. "No, don't come with me. Uh, stay here and relax, eat a cucumber. You won't enjoy it, there'll be a lot of snooty uptight middle-aged women crowding the boutique to get their hands on those boots. In fact, I've got a score to settle with this socialite who's after my boots. It could get ugly. Remember the Prada Belt episode?" I asked delicately. "Uh-uh, I'm out. I'm not getting punched in the face again." Maddie answered sternly while Corrie and Mary gazed at me in horror. "Yeah, that's cool, you go ahead London. Besides, the masseuse is on her way up. Go nuts." Mary encouraged briskly, waving me off. "Oh don't worry, I will." I assured them with a smile. As I hurried out the door, I heard Corrie yell 'Don't forget your pepper spray!'.

Luckily I stashed an extra set of clothes for the mission. I entered the lone broom closet on the 25th floor and changed swiftly into blue jeans, high heels, a decorated tank top and a vintage trench coat. I hopped into my own car, a black BMW 7-series model. As I stopped at a red light, I scanned my cellphone yet again. A text message had come through after the missed call. It read: 'Harlot's, 15:15.' I arrived at my destination downtown 20 minutes later and parked my car near a parking meter. I then crossed the street swiftly. I came across two men dressed in casual attire and sunglasses sitting in a parked car. I then opened the door of the car and sat down in the back seat. "You made it to the party. I guess Omar likes you after all." Alec teased with a small smile while glancing back at me. The man sitting next to him at the steering wheel was another agent named Mark Oldman. "Or not. What's my assignment this time? Undercover Whore?" I asked glibly. "Something like that," Mark replied nonchalantly. "You run a small escort agency that Marshall's interested in. You're Madame Heidi." Alec explained. "You've gotta be kidding me. I take serious issue with strip clubs." I answered dryly, referring to Harlot's. "Hey, it's a profitable business. Strippers are individuals too. It's actually quite tasteful for the most part." Mark responded matter-of-factly. "Say that again when we go undercover at a Chippendales concert." I muttered sarcastically, which made both Alec and Mark chuckle.

"Time to do your magic Heidi," Mark announced briskly. It had been 45 minutes already. "Do your worst," Alec encouraged. "Always do," I murmured, getting out of Mark's car and shutting the door with a loud slam. I placed my hands into the pockets of my overcoat as I walked purposefully towards my destination. The smell of stale tobacco, sweat and cheap liquor flooded my nostrils as soon as I pushed the heavy wooden door open. The interior design matched that of a stereotypical strip club: a stage immersed in fluorescent light, a steel bar at its centre, a woman grinding against it with mechanical eroticism. Circular tables lay scattered across the large room, each one bathed in a fading and dull red light. Reuben Marshall, my target, occupied a table closest to the stage and was clapping enthusiastically. Typical Neanderthal behaviour, I thought wearily to myself as I came to stand before him.

"Big Daddy?" I asked with demure relish. Big Daddy? Could this guy be more unimaginative? "Who's asking?" Reuben asked impatiently, not taking his eyes off of the stage. "Heidi." I answered calmly without flinching. "Well in that case, pull up a chair." Reuben offered, turning to me with an indulgent smile. I obediently took the seat next to him. "Aren't you kinda young to be in this business?" Reuben asked me in confusion while giving me the once over. "I got an early promotion." I replied airily which made him chuckle. "I like you, you're funny. What do you think of the talent?" Reuben asked me casually, waving his hand at the stage. "Not bad, but I'm pretty sure I can offer you a better time with one of my girls. Why don't we talk outside in the alley?" I implored. "What's wrong with talking in here? Have you got something against strip clubs?" Reuben questioned me suspiciously. "Of course not. But like my business, I prefer unpretentious intimacy. Plus, the red light bothers my corneas." I responded in an off-hand way. "Okay, okay. Wouldn't wanna offend your corneas." Reuben answered quickly, getting to his feet.

A few seconds later, I was standing with Reuben a few feet away from Harlot's backdoor, the street just around the corner. For a few minutes I blustered bullshit into his enthusiastic ears and made myself as convincing as possible. By the end of it, Reuben would've gladly followed me in handcuffs, well almost. "Alright, I'm sold. How 'bout giving me a business card or something?" Reuben demanded impatiently, getting restless. "I'll do one better. How about a private session?" I asked seductively. "Freeze, put your hands up!" someone bellowed directly behind us. Reuben jumped out of his skin at Mark standing behind him, pointing a gun at his head. He must've come through the strip club too. In a few seconds, we were completely surrounded by other agents, Alec standing beside me. "What the hell is this? Who the hell are you?" Reuben demanded indignantly, rounding on me immediately. "Sorry Reuben, but you've been punk'd." I remarked with a devilish grin. "CIA, DEMON division." I answered curtly, flashing my badge at him rapidly. "Son of a bitch," Reuben muttered angrily, knowing full well what that meant. "Aren't you too young for this shit?" he spat indignantly while I handcuffed him. "Maybe. But I just love playing dress up." I responded sarcastically while another agent covered Reuben's head with a balaclava which covered the eyes as well.

One of DEMON's SUV's by this time had reversed into the alley. I climbed into the back seat with Alec and the prisoner and we drove off. The remaining agents were piled in identical SUV's, all going in different directions in case anyone was following us. Our SUV was heading directly to a holding facility used exclusively by DEMON on the outskirts of the city. Hopefully over a few days of intensive interrogation, Marshall might just be oiled up enough to start singing. I was just contemplating whether I should bring out the numb-chucks just to mess with him when I felt the tires beneath the vehicle scrape against the gravel sharply, as if they had been slashed. My forehead collided violently with the head rest in front of me, disorienting me slightly. I hadn't even felt the van spin haphazardly all the while, Mark frantically trying not to hit anything in the road. Finally, the car came to a standstill.

"Is everyone okay?" Mark asked quickly. Alec and I had managed to get Reuben out of the car, still handcuffed and his vision impaired. "Yeah," Alec grumbled, wincing while he rubbed the side of his head. But Alec and I seemed to have only suffered minor bumps on the head. Mark and Jade, another agent accompanying us had clearly crashed into the windscreen, blood spurting uncontrollably from their foreheads. I don't think Reuben was hurt at all, but he was issuing out streams of profanities from under his balaclava. "Shit, are you guys okay?" I asked in alarm, scanning Jade's forehead. "It's just a little scratch," she answered dismissively. And that's when Alec noticed the tires. "Son of a bitch. Someone's laid down spikes in the road. That's what we drove over," he mused disbelievingly, gazing at the metal spikes a few meters away. "Look at the road, it's been sectioned off," Mark added, staring straight ahead. Sure enough, there were orange beacons in the form of a road block demarcating the entire lane. "What the hell is this?" I asked softly to no one in particular.

Without warning, Mark suffered a blow to the back of his head with the butt of a gun. Before I had time to respond, the same was done to Jade and she collapsed onto the ground. We were completely surrounded by men in black jumpers and ski masks. Instinctively, Alec and I positioned ourselves near the prisoner. But Alec too got hit in the back of the head and was thrown to the ground. Maybe it was because I was struggling so much that I wasn't rendered unconscious too. Instead, my assailant shoved my cheek down hard into the gravel while pinning my hands behind my back. "Hey man, go easy. We're here to do a job," a man's voice warned indignantly above my head. "Sorry, had to. She's a wily one," my assailant replied unabashedly. "I know that. But no permanent scarring okay? Let's get out of here before DEMON's back up arrives. Take the prisoner," the former voice commanded rapidly. "Go ahead so long. I've gotta make a quick stop at my locker," he added casually. While my fellow agents lay sprawled before me, I watched in horror as four masked men dragged Reuben Marshall away and threw him into a car not unlike our own. The guy who had shoved me down headed west with his two accomplices outside of the city with Marshall while the other left in a different direction, heading east back towards downtown Boston. I got to my feet and roused my fellow agents. All the while, my hands were trembling. That voice, the one who had told the other to go easy on me had been surprisingly calm and breezy, like a surfer approaching an ocean swirl at the approach of dawn. A voice as cool and soothing as water. I knew that drawl, I knew that voice…

By this time back up had already arrived while Alec, Mark and Jade bombarded me with questions. I told them what I had seen of the four masked men and which direction they went, but kept my knowledge of the former's voice to myself. "We were set up, the spikes, the road block, everything. But who would want Reuben Marshall more than us or OPIUM?" Mark asked of the group. I was restless, my foot tapping violently while my brain churned. "London, are you okay? You look pale." Jade noted in a concerned voice. "I'm fine, I just…" I stammered right before I made up my mind. "I have to leave," I announced abruptly. "What for? You have to stay here, it's protocol." Alec replied sternly. "Screw protocol, I have to get back to the city. Omar can fire me later." I spat impatiently and hijacked our van and drove away.

I was in deep shit and I knew it. I had seriously broken protocol by not remaining on the scene with my fellow agents. At least I hadn't left them stranded. I'd consider myself lucky if both Eleanor and Omar stopped short of putting their boots up my ass. As I drove, I considered the possibility that I'd gone insane. Too many assignments in the field had addled my brains. I was going on a hunch and somehow I trusted it more than myself. If I used my extensive knowledge of every short cut and back alley in Boston, I could get back in time. I had to know for certain.

I found myself back at the Tipton, the setting feeling strangely unfamiliar. I ignored Moseby's look of concern from the manager's desk, I felt like I was in a trance. I tapped the shoulder of a Tipton waiter leaving the personnel entrance for hotel staff only. "Has anybody checked into the employee locker room in the last few minutes?" I enquired politely. "No Ms. Tipton, I've just been there myself," the waiter answered calmly. Excellent, I was right on time. Using my Tipton card key (which had access to every door in the hotel), I opened the door swiftly. I took up position behind a marble pillar and waited, holding my gun behind my back. Right then and there I hoped to God I was right. I was rewarded 5 minutes later when I heard the door open softly. He entered the room quietly and unabashedly. He was already wearing his Tipton uniform, but he had a sports bag in his hand. His usually wavy hair was slightly flattened on the sides by the cheeks. He opened his locker with a loud clang, revealing a few hangers on the inside. He opened his sports bag and voila! Out came the black jumper and ski mask. That was my cue.

Within half a second I was standing behind him, the smooth metal of my gun pushed into the back of his head. "I just have two questions," I began quietly. He remained frozen to the spot, his entire posture stiff with anticipation. "What is your real name?" I asked him calmly. "Lance Oswald Fishman," he replied nonchalantly in his usual drawl. "Who do you work for?" I demanded, my self-control gradually unraveling. With that he turned to face me. I still had the gun pointed at him, this time to his forehead. "HALO," was all he said, a blank expression on his face. Holy shit, he's one of them…

_**A/N: And cue 'The Imperial March' (Darth Vader's theme). I'm sorry that I left the ending both confusing and cryptic, done for dramatic effect. It will become clear in chapter 4, which I hope to finish soon. Please review and let me know what you think. Cheerio!**_


	4. Angels With Dirty Faces

_**A/N: Hi y'all! Sorry for ending the last chapter abruptly and cryptically. I thought it would be better to leave all the finer details of Lance and London's interaction to chapter 4 where I could explore their interesting (and ironic) dynamic. **__**I'm still not sure how many chapters this story will have in the end. I want to try and drag it out for as long as possible just to give the chapters a bit more kick. Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 3 in the last few weeks. I think most people didn't realise that I had put chapter 3 online because other popular TSL like "Friendship Survives 2" etc also released their new chapters at the same time. I'm gonna have to plan my submission for this chapter a bit more strategically. Hope you all like it! **_

Maybe I'm suffering from an aneurism. Because I'm standing in the personnel locker room in the Tipton pointing a gun at a hotel employee. And not just any hotel employee, but Lance Fishman, the Tipton lifeguard and my ex-boyfriend. And he's just said the least credible thing that could ever come out of his mouth. He works for HALO, Headquarters of the American Logistics Operative. HALO, DEMON's sister network. Holy shit, he's one of them. Lance Fishman is a secret agent.

As comprehension sunk in, I do recall lowering my weapon ever so slightly. Lance hadn't moved or spoken since his little announcement. He continued staring at me, not caring that a gun was pointed right at him. "Lance, I…" I began to say, but was cut off abruptly. One minute we were alone, the next minute, a horde of persons were swarming the miniscule locker room. All I remember seeing were sweeps of black uniforms, badges flashing and guns pointed in every direction. Both Lance and I were brought to the ground instantaneously, my gun disposed of God knows where. Then both Lance and I were handcuffed and led away under the glare of the lobby's chandeliers.

The next thing I knew, Lance and I were seated next to one another (still handcuffed) in the back of an SUV flanked by four other HALO agents by the looks of it. Hardly anyone said a word on the ride up. I sat thinking for the longest time before I eventually broke the silence. "Son of a bitch Lance. Of all the organisations to work for, it had to be HALO. Small world," I commented wryly, an involuntary smile playing on my lips. "Small indeed," Lance agreed softly, a similar smile on his face. "You do realise I was this close to shooting you in the head right?" I demanded in a more serious tone. "You wouldn't have shot me London. Kicked my ass maybe, but not taken me off the planet altogether. I you hadn't believed me story, I would've just proved it." Lance responded confidently. "And how does one go about proving they're a secret agent, especially in such an elite division as HALO?" I demanded sceptically. "Look at the back of my head," Lance commanded softly. "I shifted into an awkward position so I could see better. There was a tattoo on the back of his neck, a figurine of sorts with an oval ring placed over his head. I'd heard of the infamous 'HALO tattoos', but never had the pleasure of seeing one up close before. "What, no barcode?" I teased lightly once I positioned myself on my seat again. "It helps people to remember who I work for," Lance answered with a slightly ominous undertone. "Sounds helpful. Maybe I should put a tattoo of an incubus on my ass." I chuckled heartily. "Very funny," Lance responded dryly, which had me laughing all the harder. "So boys, where are we heading to?" I inquired in a conversational tone. "HALO's detention," the agent at the steering wheel replied. "Excellent, this is going to be a fun day after all," I murmured sarcastically to myself.

HALO's detention centre, as it turned out, was only 5 miles east of DEMON's holding facilities. When we entered the premises, I experienced a moment of déjàvu. The premises were smaller than DEMON's. But the interior was almost exactly the same, but in a down scaled kind of way. All the while, Lance and I were led through the building in handcuffs. It was only once we entered a plush conference room were the handcuffs then removed. "Oh, so now you remove the handcuffs?" I asked waspishly of the agent beside me. "We wanted to make sure you didn't run away," he replied smoothly. "Droll, very droll." I muttered crisply. And that's when I noticed both Omar and Eleanor seated before me with what looked the two heads of HALO. "On second thoughts, I think I'd prefer the handcuffs," I reiterated. "Agent Oz, Agent L. Please have a seat," a woman seated next to Omar said in a booming voice. "Agent Oz?" I whispered with a slight smirk. "Oz is short for Oswald," Lance whispered back impatiently. "My alias is cooler than yours," I stated in hushed tones. "Sure. You picked the letter 'L' instead of spelling the remaining five letters? Snap." Lance muttered sarcastically, which made me smile. "Besides, Agent L was already taken," Lance quipped dryly.

"Agent L, welcome to HALO's detention centre. I am Lynette Beltran, the head of HALO. This is Salvador Arcadio, the head of our investigation division." Lynette introduced with a polite smile. "I do apologise for my agents having to escort you from your home. But it was imperative that you and Agent Oz were immediately brought to headquarters for debriefing," Lynette began solemnly. "Debriefing? So I'm not in trouble?" I asked excitedly. "Not this time. But you shouldn't have left your fellow agents at the scene." Omar answered in a stern voice. "I know sir, but I was pursuing an important lead. I thought that…Agent Oz… might be working for OPIUM." I replied seriously. "Agent L, we appreciate your honesty and tenacity. But the situation was under control. Agent S informed us a few minutes after the blockade on the highway that his operatives had been in position and retrieved the package." Eleanor explained simply. "And the package, I presume, is Reuben Marshall? Is he in custody?" I asked quietly. "Just downstairs," Salvador responded promptly. "So what happens now? Is HALO taking over the investigations?" I asked in bewilderment. "Not taking over, HALO and DEMON will be working together on this investigation." Eleanor replied seriously.

"Working together? But why the ambush on the freeway then? Agent J and M could've been seriously injured even though we're all working towards the same end," I demanded indignantly despite my better judgment. "Those measures may have been drastic Agent L, but they were necessary. They were done to protect Reuben Marshall's life. A bounty was put on his head." Salvador responded cryptically. "By whom?" I asked in alarm. "OPIUM. They've grown tired of DEMON infiltrating their organization one too many times. If we hadn't intervened when we did, OPIUM certainly would have. And Reuben Marshall would've disappeared off the face of the Earth. We need him alive." Lance answered gravely, speaking up for the first time in minutes. "So what happens now?" I asked softly. "We pool our resources together. Our first priority is to keep Marshall alive; he's our responsibility now. You and Agent Oz will be working very closely together in the next few weeks. We need to find out what OPIUM's next move will be." Lynette answered. "Is there anything else Agent L and I needed for?" Lance inquired politely. "Certainly. The two of you get the first crack at Marshall." Omar announced with a broad smile. For the first time in the entire day, I felt genuinely exhilarated. "Can I use my numb chucks?" I inquired sweetly.

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"Aw come on London, throw me a bone here!" Cody whined dramatically in my ear. "The answer is no in every language." I replied curtly. "But this is newsworthy London! You were handcuffed and escorted out of the Tipton in broad daylight!" Cody answered vehemently. It was Saturday afternoon and Cody and I had been having the same argument for the past 40 minutes. After my second debriefing at HALO's holding facilities. Lance and I had spent a gruelling, yet thoroughly enjoyable 2 hours interrogating Reuben Marshall. We hadn't made much progress, but I had a feeling Marshall would give us the information we needed in time. And while several eyewitnesses had seen me arrested at my abode, no one as yet knew more about it. I really am going to have to give my PR agent a raise.

"Forget it Cody! The day I give you an exclusive on the events of my personal life is the day that hell gets a cold!" I fumed. "You mean when hell freezes over," Cody corrected dryly. "Whatever. Neither one's going to change my mind on this." I countered carelessly. "Look Cody, I'm really not in the mood right now. I only came to the candy counter to get Ivana's health bars before Maddie ate them herself," I added in a huff. "But London, I'm the editor of my school paper! It's my responsibility to find newsworthy stories!" Cody pressed stubbornly. "You want me to give you an interview for your high school paper? What kind of pauper do you think I am?!" I retorted in scandalised tones. By this time, Maddie and Zack, who were standing by the candy counter, had abandoned their previous conversation and were now shamelessly eavesdropping on mine and Cody's discussion. Mr. Moseby and Esteban, too had stopped their pretence at hard work and had joined in the conversation. "Please London. My school paper may be of pauper dimensions. But I would handle your story with delicacy, accuracy and dignity, unlike those other blood-sucking tabloid excuses for print media. Plus, we're friends. Who better to paint you in a good light than someone who knows your every flaw?" Cody asked in an up-beat tone. "Alright, you talked me into it," I responded with an undertone of cunning in my voice.

Thankfully, I had made time and provision for such an event when a half wit's tale was essential. And so we all stood in a circle next to the candy counter while I told my tale. "It was exactly like I said it would be at Trés Bliss Maddie: people pushing and shoving, sales assistants running for cover, intercoms blaring from every corner. Naturally, my arch nemesis was there, Cassandra Von Dutch, the Manhattan socialite. The prized boots were equidistant from the both of us, in the centre of the boutique on a glass case. We both sprinted towards them at the same time. It wasn't a long battle; a few scratches, a black eye (for her) and some minor rips in fabric, I finally had the boots in my possession. Tossing my red American Express at Molly the store owner, I dove into my car with the boots in hand and rushed back to the Tipton." I began dramatically. "But if you came back right afterwards, then why not go straight to your suite? Why did you go to the personnel locker room first?" Cody asked shrewdly. "The only reason I went down there in the first place was to find Moseby, so that he could hide the boots for me. If Cassandra had followed me back to the Tipton right after, the first place she'd be sure to check was my suite. I couldn't hide the boots there." I replied indignantly. "But she did follow you here anyway London! Or how else did you get that graze on your cheek?" Maddie asked suspiciously.

"You're right about that Maddie. The little bitch accosted me right outside the locker room and shoved me to the ground. And then she still had the nerve to call the cops on me!" I exclaimed furiously. "That no-class-Gucci-wearing-heffer!" Esteban shot out vehemently, which made us all turn and stare at him. "Esteban!" Moseby exclaimed in alarm. "Sorry, but Ms. London pays my salary," Esteban answered by way of explanation. "And picks your wardrobe by the sounds of it," Zack retorted snidely. "Wait, why did they arrest Lance as well?" Zack asked curiously. "He had the boots in his hands, enough said." I said simply. "I'm astounded that she had you arrested when you paid for the boots. Oh, the things people will do for imported Italian suede," Moseby murmured sorrowfully. "Believe me, I know," he added when we all turned to stare at him. "Did you straighten it out with the police at the station?" Cody inquired. "Naturally, I called Molly and she showed the police who came to the boutique my receipt number purchased on my credit card. They released me immediately after." I replied smugly. "I can't believe you didn't press any charges against Cassandra Von Dutch, she sounds horrible." Maddie stated in disbelief. "She is, but I thought of the bigger picture. I had my boots and that's all that mattered," I answered seriously. "Man, all that hassle and drama for a pair of boots? That much fuss should be reserved solely for signed basketball sneakers by Carmello Anthony," Zack murmured matter-of-factly. "Or Diego Santiago, the famous matador," Esteban added with a solemn nod which had Zack rolling his eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lance exiting the personnel locker room in casual attire and a sports bag in hand.

"Would you all excuse me?" I asked abruptly and left them standing there. I jogged after Lance before he exited the revolving doors. I hadn't seen him in almost 24 hours inside the hotel. He was my last remaining link to the true events of the previous day as well as my double life. He turned around swiftly when I called his name. Something fluttered sharply in my stomach when he smiled warmly back at me, like he was really happy to see me. "Sleep well last night?" he asked politely. "Like a baby. You?" I asked almost shyly. "Man, I was exhausted. But in a good way," he agreed heartily. "You heading home?" I asked casually. "Yeah." "Do you have to head out right away?" "Well, I don't have anything urgent to do. Why?" "Do you want to just, I don't know, hang out with me for a while here at the hotel? I thought we could catch up." "Yeah, sure. I'd like that." Lance replied with silent understanding and we sauntered upstairs together.

I returned to the Tipton lobby several hours later, the entire room bathed in welcoming sunlight shining through the sky lights. It was 9am on Sunday morning. I had spent the entire night up on the Tipton roof by the pool talking to Lance. He had already left to go home around 6am. It was his day off, so I wouldn't be seeing him for another 24 hours, which felt like a long time already. I had spent the last 3 hours on the roof by myself, pensively reflecting on my conversation with Lance. Then out of nowhere, a smile crept onto my face as I thought back to the moments in the conversation where Lance had made me laugh uncontrollably. We had talked about so many things, particularly concerning our respective secret lives: our best missions, our worst missions, most difficult criminals to apprehend, most annoying agents in the field we'd ever encountered. I was amazed by how our separate recollections had constantly overlapped, whether it was having travelled to the same places or having met the same people in our profession. And yet, this was the first time our paths had actually crossed on a professional basis. Lance admitted that he'd known for some time that I worked for DEMON which initially annoyed me. But somehow he managed to divert my attention by sharing yet another hilarious adventure of his in the field which had me in stitches seconds later.

I'd honestly forgotten just how easy and comfortable it was to talk to Lance after all this time. It was as if all the years apart had vanished in the space of a few hours. Sure, I'd tried to keep things casual and normal after the break up, but even that had felt forced and strained. Besides dating, Lance and I had actually been friends. And we had lost that too after we broke up. But now…something had definitely changed, for the better I hoped. "Boy, you're a million miles away right?" a voice asked me from behind. In my pensive state of mind, I hadn't realised that I had approached the candy counter. It looked like Maddie had just clocked in for her shift and was now eyeing me with unrestrained curiosity. "Hardly, I'm right on my doorstep." I responded with a teasing chuckle. "You've been at the Tipton the entire time?" Maddie inquired curiously. "Well of course I was. Where else would I be?" I asked innocently. "Well, after you took off with Lance yesterday, I envisioned you'd be halfway to Vegas by now." Maddie teased with a sly grin. "Oh Maddie, you and your _ways_." I quipped in what I hoped was a casual brush off as I took a seat on my favourite recliner.

"So, don't leave me hanging me here London. What happened with Lance?" Maddie pressed urgently, coming to stand beside me. "Nothing happened with Lance Maddie. We just talked." I explained calmly. "You talked this entire time?" Maddie demanded, a knowing look in her eye. "Of course not. Lance left a few hours ago. I've been on the roof by myself." "What were you doing on the roof this whole time?" "Just thinking mostly." "About what?" "Just the past." "You and Lance seem to be getting along again all of a sudden." "It hasn't been all of a sudden Maddie. I don't know, we've been talking a lot lately. It's been nice, comfortable like old times." "That's great London. It's good to see you so happy again." Maddie answered sincerely. I was so wrapped up in my own fuzzy feelings about Lance that I nearly missed the abrupt change in her tone with her next words.

"Just be careful London." "Huh?" I asked quizzically, snapping out of my reverie. "What do you mean?" I inquired in a bewildered tone. "Look London, don't take this the wrong way. I really am glad that you and Lance are getting along again. But he has hurt you in the past before London. I just don't want you to get your hopes up again with him." Maddie elaborated in a serious tone. "Oh Maddie, that's so sweet of you to be concerned about me. But I'm okay, really. I'm not looking to get back together with Lance. It's just been nice talking to him lately, that's all." I countered in a would-be-casual voice, astutely ignoring the throbbing tempo of my heart beat. "Okay London, if you're sure." Maddie stated uncertainly. "I'm sure Maddie." I responded promptly, smiling broadly. As Maddie returned to the candy counter, I realised that my heart rate was accelerating with each passing second. Lies, lies, lies. Lies for my daily survival in my line of work. Lies to keep my severed heart intact. Now I had a third lie to coax myself into. I am not in love with Lance Fishman…

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This third lie was making my life exceedingly complicated, and I didn't care. Everyone and everything passed in a blur around me. I was more than willing to throw away every last shred of dignity and sanity I had judiciously stored up in all this time on a crazy whim. And it was all because of Lance. It was Monday morning and I was dwelling on a conversation we'd had on the phone the night before. I can't even remember the entire conversation, just the last few minutes of it. Just when my self-confidence and hope was waning at the thought of him hanging up the phone, Lance asked me out to dinner this following Thursday evening. I felt completely nauseated with exhilaration and it was starting to show. Eleanor decided to burst my bubble in the middle of our meeting at DEMON's headquarters. "London, are you even listening to me?" Eleanor demanded impatiently, hands on her hips. "Huh?" I asked stupidly. "Unbelievable London. I'm trying to outline the preliminaries for DEMON and HALO's surveillance for the week and your head's in the clouds." Eleanor said reproachfully while frowning. "Well I thought that would be a good thing since we're working with HALO. Get it, head in the clouds?" I teased with a wink. When Eleanor continued to stare at me with an 'I'm not amused' expression, I decided to quit fooling around. "Aw come on Eleanor, lighten up. We've gone through this a hundred times already. I know what to do." I countered on a more serious note. "Are you sure you're up for this London? I understand if you working in close proximity with an ex-boyfriend is too difficult." Eleanor countered with a touch more sensitivity. "Oh no, no Eleanor. Everything's fine with Lance and I. Totally fine, we're tight, like Sodom and Gomorrah." "Somehow I get the feeling there're more to this story." "Well if you must know, Lance asked me out to dinner on Thursday evening." I answered in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner. "Dinner? Like a date?" Eleanor inquired uneasily. "No, not like a date Eleanor. Can't two agents out in the field go out for dinner together without arousing suspicion?" I demanded in a defensive tone. "Certainly, but not when they were previously involved." "Sure they can. I'll just keep a two-foot distance at all times. He can still pass the bread rolls to me though right?" I asked facetiously. "Seriously London. I don't think this is a good idea." "Eleanor, you worry too much. It's just dinner." "London, I think you should be careful with Agent Oz." Eleanor stated cryptically.

There it was again, that damn word 'careful'. What was with everybody of late? Am I missing something vital here? "Okay Eleanor, what's going on? Why are you warning me about Lance all of a sudden?" I urged. Did I just imagine that Eleanor looked slightly uncomfortable by my question? "There's something you're not telling me," I stated pointedly while looking her in the eyes. "London, if there's anything that I've taught you, it's this. Trust someone only as far as you can throw them. Don't let your guard down." Eleanor responded in that same bland tone with its undercurrent of a very different meaning. "Okay, if you're done reading Fortune Cookies for the Insane, I've got paper work to do Eleanor." I answered by way of greeting to let her know that the conversation was over.

Needless to say, Eleanor's words continued to needle me for the rest of the week. I hated the fact that everyone seemed to bagging on mine and Lance's re-acquaintance. Why couldn't they just let me be? When I was consumed with insurmountable grief over Brandy's death, no one seemed to give a shit then. Now that I'm actually happy for a change, now everyone's got a ginormous stick stuffed up their asses. All this negativity nearly ruined my date prep time which involved choosing the best outfit and ensembles. I said it almost killed my buzz. The truth was that I was still looking forward to Thursday and still treating it as a date. Judging from the slight uneasy tenor of Lance's voice when he'd first asked me out, I got the feeling he was just as nervous as I was about this.

On the night in question, I changed my attire at least 5 times, all the while ignoring the beeping of my cellphone. I couldn't bear to talk to anyone beforehand, especially my girlfriends. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I might just puke. Lance and I had agreed to meet at 8pm at Des Champs, an upmarket French restaurant downtown which happened to be one of my favourites. He still remembered after all this time. I could've opted for a quiet evening at the Tipton restaurant, but I didn't want any eavesdroppers. I finally settled for a sea green dress with a ribbed backline which went down to just above my knees. I wore my hair down in wavy curls with an array of gold jewellery, earrings and matching stiletto heels.

My stroll to my limo was slightly uneven as I tried to concentrate on walking straight. I gratefully climbed into the back seat while the footman held the door open for me. I wound my black shawl tightly around my shoulders, the city lights of Boston glittering across my face as we drove on. It wasn't long before yet another footman was opening the car door open for me as I stood outside Des Champs. The restaurant was crowded, the usual eyes fastened on me as I walked over to the maître d'. "Reservation for Mr. Lance Fishman and Ms. London Tipton?" I inquired politely while taking in my surroundings. "Ms. Tipton, your table is ready. Mr. Fishman has already been seated. Please follow me," the maître d' gestured with his hand in a drawling French accent as we walked towards the corner of the restaurant. Sure enough, Lance was already seated at a table in a private booth. He rose obligingly from his chair and I repressed a smile. He looked exceedingly handsome in a black tailored tuxedo and a white buttoned down shirt subtly concealed under his dinner jacket and black loafers. His hair was gelled back for the occasion.

It reminded me of the first dinner party we attended together when Carey and Moseby had tried to groom Lance so he'd fit in with my friends. I remembered too how I had attended the same party wearing a one-piece bathing suit, a plastic pool ring around my waist and beach thongs when I realised that I liked Lance just the way he was: water-loving, slow-drawling, IQ-lacking Lance Oswald Fishman. Lance smiled broadly when I stood in front of him. "Ms. Tipton, what an unexpected pleasure," he greeted, bringing my hand up slightly and grazing it with his lips. "The pleasure's all mine Mr. Fishman," I greeted back demurely, enjoying this little game. "You look positively ravishing tonight." Lance stated in a debonair voice while he opened up my chair for me. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well too." I replied with a smirk. "New tux?" I asked curiously. "Nah, just your old run-of-the-mill Cartier tailored suit." Lance teased. This made me laugh all the more as the night finally began.

Dinner was quite an enjoyable affair. Both Lance and I indulged ourselves on a liberal array of delicious French entrées, main courses and desserts. The conversation was both light and jovial throughout. There were times when I caught Lance wearing an expression consumed with repressed tension and stress. But he always lightened the mood with a well-placed joke. I found myself staring at the centre of the ballroom where several couples were now swaying to and fro while the band slowed down the tempo of the music. "Would you like to dance?" Lance asked me unexpectedly. "I'd love to," I answered readily, feeling the tiniest of thrills when he took my hand in his and led me onto the floor.

I'd forgotten just how good a dancer he was, how easy it was for me to let him take control of my body. And he did it so effortlessly, keeping his right hand firmly on the small of my back and his left hand in mine, his eyes locked on mine throughout. I felt silently exhilarated on those occasions when he twirled me around and dipped me, his lips just millimetres from the base of my neck. I was in my own private purgatory and I loved every minute of it. "I'm having a really great time tonight Lance. I'm glad we could have some private time away from the Tipton and work," I murmured softly while burying my cheek into his chest while we continued swaying. I distinctly recall Lance's breath hitch in his throat at my movement and his heart rate increased rapidly. I was getting to him too, perfect. And then I heard him sigh audibly. "What's wrong?" I questioned in a concerned voice, my cheek never leaving his chest all the while. "London, there's something that I have to tell you," he began slowly.

"I haven't been completely honest with you. My first assignment as a HALO agent wasn't in the Czech Republic trying to infiltrate a Middle Eastern terrorist group in hiding. I was in position when I was called upon, right here in Boston, right in the Tipton." Lance began solemnly. "London, do you remember in 2007 when your father was nearly arrested?" "Remember? How could I forget? Daddy was trying to buy out the Shangri La Hotel at the time. The authorities thought he was involved in a money-laundering scam. There were feds all over the place, tapping his phone lines, following him around the Tipton, following me around school. It was a nightmare." I answered warily. "Anyway, HALO was chiefly involved in the investigation at the time. Several agents were trailing your father and trying to get access to his accounts to look for any discrepancies. But they weren't making any progress. In June of that year, we got a helpful tip-off from a maid who worked in the Tipton. She claimed that she'd seen your father hiding what looked like important documentation in one of the suites at the hotel. We guessed that it was his missing accounts." Lance continued gravely. Somehow I guessed which suite he was referring to. "Daddy hid his books in my suite? So you were assigned to steal them?" I pressed anxiously. And that's when his eyes grew even wearier.

"Not exactly. We were only going on a hunch. Lynette needed more proof before we honed in on your father. So besides acting as a lookout at the Tipton, I was also given an additional assignment. I had to get close to someone whom your father was intimately acquainted with, someone who may have known more details about his business ventures." Lance concluded hesitantly. And that's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. "You were assigned to get close to me, to get to the files." I stated in a dull tone, finally looking up at him. "But you broke up with me, for that, for that mermaid!" I spluttered, finally realising that I was indeed angry. "It was all a rouse. Arianna (another HALO agent) agreed to play the role of the mermaid, I mean other woman. Once HALO became aware of your father's innocence, we retreated. I was instructed to end things with you," Lance explained quietly.

The music was still playing in the background, but Lance and I were now standing a few inches apart, staring at each other steadily. "Well Lance Fishman, I underestimated you. You're a better actor than what I gave you credit for." I stated morosely, a smile plastered on my face. "London," "No I mean it. It's a pity you had to stop the charade when you did. A few extra months and you could've gotten a raise for trying to seduce me." I added coldly. "It wasn't like that London." Lance protested feebly, knowing that he'd already lost me. "Sure it was. All in a day's work right Agent Casanova?" I spat before turning away from him. "Don't touch me!" I yelled at him when he grabbed my arm. "You bastard. Stay away from me." I added before fleeing the restaurant, avoiding the same eyes watching my retreating figure.

Thankfully, the limo was still outside. I dove gratefully into it. "Take me back to the Tipton," I instructed tersely. "Certainly Ms. Tipton," my driver answered, avoiding my eyes too. I tried to ignore that I was shaking from head to toe. I knew that I wouldn't get any sleep tonight and my heart plummeted at the thought. I remember thinking ruefully that I'd have to take the freight elevator up to my suite. My tear-stained face would be too much of a giveaway under the lobby's interrogating glare.

_**A/N: Shoo, it took me forever to finish this. Hopefully, everyone will see the new chapter before 'Friendship Survives 2' returns with yet another enthralling chapter ; ) I took the 'Angels with Dirty Faces' title from the Home Alone series, good times. I just love it when the guy accuses his girlfriend of 'schmooching wid my brudder' before he shoots up the room. I think the Sugababes have a song by the same title, but I'm not sure. I thought the title was appropriate for Lance's turn-coat ways. Look forward to more drama and fast-paced action (I hope). Cheerio!**_


	5. Dealbreakers

**A/N: Hey y'all! Sorry it's been more than a month since I last updated. Law school is serious man : ) it's been kicking my ass all semester long, but at least I've been seeing some of the fruits of my labour. I hope you'll all enjoy this chapter. I apologise that I haven't introduced more ass-kicking moments, but they will come in time, I promise. I'm finally on vacation, so I'm busy working on a Moliver story for the HM fanfic as well as a possible High School Musical story which is supposed to be a cross-over of sorts (I won't say with what till I have something concrete). Enjoy!**

"Alright London, enough of this. It's been a week already." Maddie urged in a slightly more impatient tone. "You can't hide out in your suite forever," she added on a more serious note.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I replied coolly, knowing full well that I was lying yet again.

Had it only been a week since my walk of shame out the doors of Des Champs? I hadn't left my suite in all that time, not even to attend Chelsea's weekly brunches. I'd even bought clothes online to substitute for my trips to Trés Bliss. But I didn't even have feel like bragging to Maddie about my new Capri pants that had been delivered to my door. Maddie was the first person to see me all week; I didn't even let Muriel in to clean my suite. Not that it would've helped. I couldn't bring myself to leave the suite, to take the lift 25 floors down to the lobby and run the risk of bumping into Lance. I guess swimming on the roof is a no-no then…

"You can't avoid Lance forever, nor should you have to. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Maddie stated fervently, coming to sit next to me on my bed.

I had told Maddie what had happened at Des Champs with Lance, but omitted anything pertaining to espionage, drug syndicates or to double lives. I probably made Lance more of a gold-digging womanizer than I ought to though.

"You're kidding right?" I asked bluntly before resuming my bland expression once more.

"I'm not avoiding Lance, Maddie. Did it ever occur to you that I prefer the ambulance of my own suite?" I asked defensively.

"You mean ambience." Maddie corrected without thinking.

"Whatever. I just like it up here better. I can leave anytime that I want." I replied, feigning nonchalance.

"Oh really? Then why are you cuddling with Ivana?" Maddie demanded shrewdly.

She had me there. Since I hadn't slept since last week, I had taken to cuddling up with Ivana in my bed these past few nights. Ivana was lucky she was such a snob; no dog would ever measure up.

"Ivana and I are spending quality time together. I felt guilty about having to leave her at home every time I go out of town." I explained while stroking Ivana's head while it lolled in my lap.

"Don't you think Ivana's tired of hearing you talk about how much smarterer you are than Fish-Boy?" Maddie asked teasingly.

"Nonsense, she can't get enough of that story." I retorted defensively while pouting.

"Oh really? Come here sweetie," Maddie implored to Ivana, her arms open invitingly.

Ivana's ears pricked up and she bounded into Maddie's lap without a second's hesitation, her tongue wagging excitedly. Traitor.

"Now that your reason for avoiding Lance is in my lap, would you consider taking a shower?" Maddie inquired knowingly while rubbing Ivana's stomach.

I sighed aloud as I got to my feet. The jig was up.

"Killjoys," I muttered to both Maddie and Ivana as I walked to the bathroom.

There were three things I did before re-entering the lobby: I took a deep breath, shook out my shoulders and cracked my neck bones from side to side. The lobby was full of guests as usual, none of them paying the slightest bit of attention to me. That suited me just fine; the last thing I needed was an audience. Moseby wasn't at his desk, which annoyed me immensely. I needed to ask him what Chef Paulo would be serving for dinner tonight. As I scanned the lobby, I noticed that many of the Tipton staff weren't in their usual positions. Maybe Moseby was yelling at one of them in the staff locker room. I tentatively made my way down there. I sighed in relief; the locker room was empty. I had half expected to bump into Lance down here. I was just about to go back upstairs when I heard footsteps behind me.

"London?"

Son of a bitch. I have the worst luck possible. I turned to face Lance, whose surprised expression turned to one of resolution and determination.

"London, I really think we should talk about this."

"And I really think you're full of it." I retorted flippantly before stalking past him to the exit.

"Look, I didn't have a choice in the matter. It was part of the job."

"Well boo-hoo for you. Did you dry your tears off with your pay check?"

"London…"

"How dare you compare my emotional turmoil to your guilty conscience? As if it's on the same level."

"London!"

"What?"

"We're in the lobby."

"Shit."

"What's the meaning of all this ruckus?" Moseby asked impatiently.

Trust Moseby to be at his desk now to witness to my future humiliation. Come to think of it, the lobby was still overpopulated not to mention that Maddie and the Martin twins were now crowding around her candy counter. Could this day get any worse?

"London?" Lance asked once more, trying to get my attention.

"Yeah, well. You can forget about getting an invite to my 'Yay Me!' party." I began haphazardly, trying to think on my feet.

"Huh?" Maddie asked quizzically.

"Why? Is there going to be a pool there?" Lance inquired enthusiastically, finally cottoning on.

"Is that all you can think about? God Lance, you're two cans short of an 8-pack." I stated facetiously.

"She means 6-pack, Lance." Cody put in helpfully while everyone continued eavesdropping on our fight.

"Hey, you can't insult me like that. You're not the boss of me." Lance returned defensively.

"Are you questioning my sorority?" I asked loudly with hands on my hips.

"That's authority London!" Maddie exclaimed frustratedly. "It hurts me, it physically hurts me," I heard her add to a sympathetic Cody, who shook his head solemnly.

"Well yeah, I am like questioning your soro-authority. You may be a rich and beautiful heiress. But you can't treat me like dirt. For I am Aqua-Thor, Supreme Overlord of the sea. At least that's what my Mermen Council tells me." Lance finished with finesse, which made me want to laugh for a split second.

"Dude, the only time you should advertise that is on a never-to-know basis." Zack quipped exasperatedly while rubbing his temples.

"That and the fact that my brother Spencer once shaved 'Dork' into my head." Moseby murmured conspiratorially.

"Good to know. Now if you don't mind, _Aqua-Thor_. You are hereby disinvited from my 'Yay Me!' Party! You can take your scuba equipment and shove them in the sun!" I barked angrily, turning red in the face.

"You're right Maddie, it is a painful thing to witness." Cody murmured painstakingly.

"Good, 'cause I don't want to even go to your stupid non-pool party. Besides, I have a Mermen Council meeting that night anyway." Lance interjected heatedly.

With a final exasperated groan, I cut through the crowd of eavesdroppers and stomped off dramatically towards the elevator. I made it back up to my suite within 10 minutes and was just about to let the door swing close when a hand reached out from the hallway to stop it. I allowed myself to roll my eyes momentarily at the ceiling as Lance let himself in.

"Hey, really great performance out there, fellow thespian. I really think we fooled them." Lance congratulated cheerily.

"Yeah, good times." I muttered dryly.

"Now we could talk more freely now that we're alone–"

"Let me make this perfectly clear, Aqua-Thor. Just because we both gave a stellar performance of two dumbasses down there does not make us even in any way. I'm still pissed off at you."

"But, London-"

"Let the door hit you on the ass on the way out." I snapped, my hands on my hips once more.

With a reluctant sigh, Lance looked at me one last time before letting himself quietly out of my suite. With an audible sigh, I sunk back against the door and closed my eyes, hoping for sleep and peace of mind in the future.

The chilled vacuum air of the oval room struck me the minute I entered. Usually, my body didn't need to adjust to the conference room since I spent every waking day in this infernal place. But since 'The Walk of Shame', I hadn't made an appearance at work in a week. I told Eleanor I had a cold, but something in her ready acceptance of my lie made me think she already knew what transpired at Des Champs with Lance. There really was no such thing as a private life when you're a secret agent, especially when you're a rich heiress to boot.

I ignored the looks of all my fellow agents as I took a seat next to Alec. His mouth twitched in a peculiar way which made me think he was trying hard not to laugh.

"How's your cold?" he asked me tentatively, emphasizing the word 'cold'.

"Better thanks. I just needed some bed rest." I responded quickly.

"Good. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about your 'cold'." Alec stated in a different tone which caught me off guard.

I looked intently at his eyes and realized what he was trying to communicate without words.

"It's okay, it happens." I responded glumly.

"Well if it persists, I find that a great remedy is a pint of Haagen-Dazs, Strawberry & Cream flavour." Alec remarked kindly.

"Thanks, I think I'll try that." I replied, giving Alec a smile which he returned readily.

Everyone immediately stopped talking the minute Omar and Eleanor entered the room wearing grim expressions. I was pretty used to their expressions of woe whenever we were working on a particularly difficult case. But to say that I was surprised when Lynette Beltran, Salvador Arcadio entered the oval conference room with Lance in tow, wearing equal expressions of woe, was an understatement. I exchanged a brief look of bewilderment with Alec before turning my eyes to my superiors.

"Welcome fellow agents. We received a direct communication from Optimum Pharmaceuticals at 07:00. The new CEO, Laurent Savoy, is requesting a meeting." Omar began ominously, while gazing around the room.

"With DEMON?" one of my fellow agents piped up curiously across the room from me.

"With one of our agents." Eleanor responded softly.

I got a strange sensation in my stomach when Eleanor, Omar, Lynette and Salvador's eyes flitted in my direction. And then I understood.

"He's requesting a meeting with me." I stated quietly, looking Eleanor in the eye.

"That's correct Agent L." Lynette answered solemnly.

"In what capacity? As London Tipton, the hotel heiress or London Tipton, the secret agent?" I asked quickly.

"We're not sure." Salvador answered curtly.

"When does he want to see me?" I inquired.

"This afternoon at Des Champs at 14:00." Eleanor answered, not meeting my eye this time.

"Well then I guess I have to go meet him then." I stated calmly.

"No! London, you can't meet with him! I mean uh, Agent L. I think it would be extremely unwise to keep that appointment." Lance interjected heatedly, which surprised me to no end.

"Ignoring Agent Oz's brash and tactless interruption for the moment, I'm afraid I have to agree with him. I cannot allow you to attend that meeting Agent L." Omar stated solemnly while looking at me intently.

"Why not? Laurent Savoy wants to see me, no one else." I stated impatiently.

"Exactly. It could be a trap." Lance persisted angrily.

"A trap? Laurent Savoy purposely invites me to a meeting out in the open and you all think he's got something underhanded planned?" I demanded quizzically.

"It's not that implausible Agent L. Either way, we can't know what for sure what his real intentions are for requesting this meeting." Lynette answered calmly.

"Well then, all the more reason to send me in. We never gonna know what OPIUM's next move is if we all sit around here twiddling our thumbs." I quipped sardonically.

"It's too risky Agent L." Eleanor interjected crisply.

"I like a little risk." I responded confidently, despite the sinking despair that was gradually creeping into my chest.

"Here's what we'll do, with your consensus of course," I began calmly, gesturing towards my superiors and those of HALO before continuing. "I'll go and keep the meeting with Savoy as planned while DEMON and HALO agents form a safe perimeter outside the restaurant and neighbouring streets. In case OPIUM tries anything." I suggested quickly.

"We could position field agents in the surrounding area and put a wire on Agent L." Salvador agreed readily.

"Uh-uh, no wire. Way too conspicuous. Whatever capacity Laurent Savoy's expecting to see me, it has to be a meeting of the minds in every sense of the word." I interjected abruptly.

The heads of DEMON and HALO conversed apart from the other agents in the room for a minute or two. When they finally turned to face me once more, their expressions betrayed nothing.

"Alright, Agent L. We're all in agreement: You will go and meet with Laurent Savoy at the appointed time with HALO and DEMON agents situated in the immediate area. Agent L, I must implore you to exercise restraint and caution at all times with Savoy." Omar urged me briskly.

"Aw shucks, you know me sir. I'll be as smooth as butter." I replied cheerily, batting my eyelids at him.

"Then it's settled. I suggest you change before the meeting and meet back here at headquarters at noon, Agent L." Eleanor stated crisply.

"Agents, you are dismissed." Omar stated curtly and grabbed his folder.

Eleanor, Lynette and Salvador followed Omar out of the room along with the other agents. I was one of the last left in the room or so I thought. I ignored Lance and made my way towards the door. But before I could leave, I felt him grab my wrist and wheel me around. Before I could react, he pushed me gently against the back wall. I became aware of his hands on my shoulders, our bodies painfully close together.

"What do you think you're doing?" I hissed impatiently, turning my face away so that my cheek was now facing him.

"London, please don't do this. Don't go to the meeting." Lance pleaded earnestly.

"It's too late for that Lance. Besides, if I can't do my job, then I might as well quit now." I responded curtly.

"You're being reckless. If you're doing this because of me–"

"Don't flatter yourself. This has nothing to do with you, so put that thought right out of your mind. If you think you have any effect on me whatsoever, then you're imagining things."

"Am I? So your current accelerated heart rate has nothing to do with me?" Lance asked softly.

My heart caught in my throat when his hand left my shoulder and gently began caressing my exposed cheek.

"You're shivering London. Are you sure that's not because of me? I wish you could feel my chest. My heart is pounding right now. Face it, London, you want me and I still want you. I may have led you on in the past because of my job. But that doesn't mean that my feelings for you were never real. I'm trying to protect you because I care about you." Lance whispered tantalisingly in my ear.

If only Lance knew what he was doing to me right now. But then again, the little stinker had been with me at my most private moments. He knew exactly what to do to make me go weak in the knees. His mouth was excruciatingly close to my face, his aromatic cologne wafting enticingly into my nostrils. All I had to do was tilt my face towards his and envelop my lips with his…

"Nice try, Romeo. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to prepare for. Try not to miss me too much." I purred, slapping Lance's check playfully before slipping out of his grasp and exiting the frigid conference room.

It was 11am and I was back in my suite at the Tipton. I stood looking at my appearance in the mirror in my bathroom. I had just taken a shower before changing into my clothes. Now I stood in front of the mirror, stark naked and twirling a strand of my wet hair around my finger. I found that I did this quite often right before I got dressed. Not because I liked looking at myself exactly. It was a reminder: no matter what London Tipton, the secret agent or heiress, did or said, this was who I really was underneath the clothing. And there was just no faking myself or anyone else when I saw my own reflection. This was me at my most honest, the real me. And no one would ever know the difference. With an audible sigh, I exited the bathroom and changed for my meeting.

I got out of my convertible and took off my sunglasses. It was 14:05. I glanced casually at the black SUV's parked a few feet away from my car and at several of the field agents dressed in casual attire standing in close proximity to me. And then I made my way slowly to the front entrance of Des Champs, my high heels clicking loudly against the concrete pavement. The maître'd smiled in recognition at me as I approached his counter.

"Ah, Ms. Tipton, how may I be of service?" he inquired smoothly.

"I have a lunch appointment with a Mr. Laurent Savoy. Has he reserved a table?" I inquired politely.

"Why, yes he has, Ms. Tipton. His table is located on the balcony. Please allow me to escort you to him." The maître'd suggested and led the way.

I followed the maître'd out to the terrace overlooking the street down below. I myself preferred to sit inside the restaurant, even on its busy nights. I'd learnt first hand from Maddie exactly what can happen when you sit outside a Boston restaurant on a humid night. As I approached my destination, a man rose from the table to greet me. He was tall and lean (possibly in his late twenties or early thirties) with russet coloured skin and hazel eyes. He was dressed in a tailored light grey suit with a black tie and matching loafers. So this was the infamous Laurent Savoy. I was disappointed; he was better looking than I initially anticipated. Quite surprising, considering he was the new head of a notorious crime syndicate that I was trying to destroy. I could've really enjoyed myself with this gorgeous man under different circumstances.

"Mr. Savoy, we finally meet." I greeted, extending my hand towards his and he approached me.

"Please call me Laurent. Ms. Tipton, it is truly an honour to finally meet you in person." Laurent greeted silkily while pressing his lips to my outstretched hand.

"And you may call me Ms. Tipton." I retorted sweetly, which made him laugh uproariously.

"Where are my manners? Please sit." He instructed gently while pulling out my chair for me.

Laurent sat back in his chair and smiled genially at me once I was settled. I decided for the mean time to play it coy until I needed to get to the crux of the situation. The waiter swooped and asked what we would like to drink.

"I'll have a peach schnapps." I replied gaily.

"Club soda for me. And bring a bottle of your finest wine my good man." Laurent stated hurriedly with a smile.

"So Laurent, I was very surprised to receive a message at my place of work that you wanted to meet with me. To what do I owe this pleasure?" I asked politely, staring at him intently.

"Ms. Tipton, may I call you London? It's no secret that I am an admirer of your father's sheer business sense. And I have been very anxious to meet you for the longest time." Laurent began cheerfully.

"And why is that?" I asked slowly.

"Because you're London Tipton, the rich hotel heiress. Everyone in Boston and around the world desires a meeting with you. You are a young woman of many faces." Laurent answered smoothly, emphasizing the last sentence.

"Alright, cut the crap. Why did you really arrange this meeting?" I demanded harshly, dropping the coy act after only a few seconds.

"I beg your pardon?" Laurent asked quizzically, a smile curling on his lips all the while.

"Don't play games with me. What do you want, Savoy?" I demanded quietly.

Laurent's smile dropped just as the waiter appeared with our drinks. Both of us continued staring at each other while the waiter uncorked the bottle of wine. After the waiter had departed, Laurent poured himself a glass of wine and sipped it slowly before speaking once more.

"So we get to it finally. You're absolutely right, I did invite you to lunch for a specific purpose. I have a favour to ask of you London." Laurent began quietly.

"And you couldn't do it over the phone? Why invite me to a place out in the open with witnesses?" I asked suspiciously.

"It serves a dual purpose. I wanted to meet you. And I know you've wanted to meet me for a while. There have been many rumours going around since my - promotion." He stated solemnly.

"Let me guess: none of them are true?" I asked flippantly with a sly smile, which he returned willingly.

"You and I are a lot alike London. I think we could help each other."

"That would be impossible since any help from you would require some form of criminal activity. And I don't do crime. What do you want from me?"

"I need you to speak to your father about a business proposition."

"And what business proposition is that?"

"I'd like to buy one of your father's hotels."

"And which hotel might that be?"

"Why the Boston Tipton of course."

Now it was my turn to stare incredulously back at him. Since his little announcement, Laurent had not blinked in all that time. He was serious.

"Why the Boston Tipton?" I asked slowly, feeling like my blood was boiling, threatening to cause internal combustion.

"Well Boston is where OPTIMUM's headquarters are so to speak. We need a place where we can entertain our guests and important clientele. And the Boston Tipton has impeccable facilities. It makes logical business sense to create a merger of sorts." Laurent answered succinctly.

"Over my dead body. That hotel is rightfully mine by birth. If you think I'm going to sit back and watch you turn my home into a criminal lair you've got another thing coming. My father would never allow it." I spat angrily, losing my composure for the first time since the beginning of lunch.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. If nothing else, your father is an exceptional businessman. And he has never been shy of business ventures where there's a lot of money to be made. I only asked for this lunch out of common courtesy. But you should know that as a multi-billion dollar corporation, OPTIMUM is used to the best. And OPIUM is used to getting its way. You do recall the merger we made with GM Motors a year ago?" Laurent asked carefully, watching my expression.

"You son of a bitch!"

"All I'm asking is for you to consider your options very carefully, London. I'd hate for you to make a rash decision in the heat of the moment." Laurent added quietly, pursing his hands together in front of his face.

"This meeting is over." By now I had risen to my feet and grabbed my purse.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hoped we could come to a profitable agreement." Laurent replied remorsefully.

"I'll say it once more for your benefit. The only way you're getting your hands on my hotel is over my dead body. Good day, Mr. Savoy."

"Good day, Ms. Tipton. I hope we'll be seeing each other again very soon." Laurent greeted cordially with a smile on his face.

All I could muster was a withering glance in his direction before stalking off back downstairs. Laurent Savoy could thank his lucky stars that I didn't reach over the table and punch him in the jaw. God, I hate criminals…

"God, I can't believe how smug that bastard was over lunch. Letting me know exactly what his intentions were with my hotel. God, I wanted to kick his ass right off the balcony." I muttered mutinously while sipping my Smirnoff.

It was the same day a few hours later and I was still in the downtown vicinity. Alec and a couple of other DEMON agents such as Mark and Jade had invited me out to a bar and I really needed a drink after that luncheon with Laurent Savoy. A few of the HALO agents, Lance included, had been invited too. So by the time the bartender served my drink, I was talkative and pissed off.

"Forget about that jerk, London. He was obviously trying to get a reaction out of you. That's why he arranged the meeting." Jade responded soothingly.

"You really think that's why he set up the meeting? Just to piss London off?" Alec inquired cryptically of Jade.

"You think there was more to it than that?" I asked quizzically.

"Absolutely. Just because we haven't figured it out yet, doesn't mean that Savoy didn't have an agenda for setting up that meeting." Alec responded softly.

"I agree with Alec. Whether OPIUM's got a personal vendetta against you or not, they're out for blood this time." Mark added ominously.

"I can think of someone else who would agree with Mark." Alec added mischievously with a chuckle.

I turned in the direction Alec was looking and grimaced. Of course he was talking about Lance, who was standing near a pool table with a beer in his hand and glancing intently in my direction. Just then a guy came sauntering towards me with a leering towards me.

"Hey babe, wanna dance?" he asked seedily of me.

I looked him over for a while before answering. He wasn't too bad on the eye, but I knew his type: thought he was being terribly smooth and treated women like objects. Normally, I wouldn't give this guy the time of the day, especially as a rich heiress. But seeing Lance laughing out of the corner of my eye with none other than Arianna, the mermaid whore, made my decision for me.

"Sure, lead the way." I responded demurely, batting my eyelashes at him and following him out onto the doorway.

The stereo started pumping out Just Dance by Lady GaGa from somewhere behind the bar. And for the next 4 minutes, I put on quite a show with this random, knowing full well that Lance was watching my every move. I got some satisfaction from Lance's glare while he watched this guy put his hands on me in every inappropriate way as I grinded up against his body on the tiny dance floor. By the time the dance was over, much of my enthusiasm had ebbed away. All I wanted right now was to go home.

"So, can I get your number?" my dance partner asked me in a husky voice.

"No." I retorted and made my way back to the bar.

"Guys, thanks for the drinks. I'm gonna head out now." I stated hurriedly while grabbing my purse.

"I'll walk you out," Alec offered genially, but I cut him off.

"It's okay, Alec, I'll be okay. I'll see you guys tomorrow." I said with a smile before departing. I didn't look back, especially not towards the corner where I knew Lance would be, his eyes burning into my back.

I brought my jacket closer around my neck in response to the chilly night air. I was looking forward to going back to my suite and settling in for bed. It had been a long day. I was too wrapped up in thoughts about the past to even notice the van speeding up behind me. Without warning, I heard tires screech alongside me and two men hopped out of a van and advanced on me. Before I could react, I felt hands grabbing me and pinning my hands behind my back. While I struggled pathetically against my attackers, I felt a cool cloth across my mouth. My last thought was how much I hate the smell of chloroform before I lapsed into involuntary unconsciousness…

**Shoo, it took me forever to write this since I decided to compose while I typed. Hope you all liked the London and Lance saucy-ness ; ) I'll try to get the 6th chapter out sooner and with less words. Seriously, who am I kidding with that promise? More beefing and ass-kicking to come!**


	6. The Take Over, Break's Over

**Hey everyone! I've really been on the juice this week. I'm totally switching to typing out my chapters before writing anything down first : ) Hopefully I'll be able to finalise the last few chapters before the end of July. I'm currently re-vamping a few previous ideas of mine to make the conclusion more plausible. I've been reading Robert Ludlum's "The Sigma Protocol" and got a few ideas from there. Man, I wish I could write like that! Anyway, hope you all like the chapter. I couldn't come up with a cooler chapter title, so I stole one from Fall Out Boy (love that song). Enjoy!**

_For a few seconds I couldn't figure out where I was__. But I was acutely aware of wisps of smoke enveloping me from every corner. All I knew was that I was standing in front of a statuesque building; at least that's what it used to be. It was twisted and broken, crumbling from the bottom up in a pitiable state. I felt a lump in my throat as I gazed at the ruins, mourning for the architectural wonder it must've been in its hey-day. What was even more alarming was the appearance of two figures walking towards me amidst all that smoke and ruin. They were two women, grossly different in their ages and equally familiar to me. _

"_Mom?!" I exclaimed in astonishment, seriously questioning my sanity. _

_There was no mistaking it; it was my mother. I recognized her in an instant despite only seeing her once a year, usually when I opted to fly to Barbados to spend holidays with her and Cristo. For a woman in her late forties, she was still attractive. Every time she smiled, I imagined what my father must've seen in her twenty years ago that made him skip an important board meeting in New York City and marry her in a heart beat in a little chapel outside Jersey. _

"_Hello sweetheart, who else were you expecting?" My mom inquired quizzically with that knowing smile of hers. _

"_What are you doing here?" I demanded, taking in my surroundings more closely. _

"_What else? I'm taking in some shopping with my new best friend." My mom responded hurriedly as if I were missing something vital in her words. _

_And that's when I turned and studied my mother's newest companion more closely than ever. It was Brandy, smiling back at me with that same coy smile wrought with love and understanding. She looked as beautiful as always. _

"_Brandy?" I asked dumb-founded. _

_Where the hell am I? Am I dead? But how could I be if my mother was here as well? I think I would've remembered if she had died on an alcoholic binge in some abandoned hammock. Well, I hope my father would've been tactful with that kind of information at least. What was going on? _

"_Yes honey, it's me." Brandy answered reassuringly. _

"_What are you both doing here? What's going on? What's happening to me?" I demanded in one breath, feeling a desperate need to hyperventilate. _

"_London, you need to calm down. You're going to be fine." Brandy chided gently in a sing-song voice. _

"_I knew she would react like this. London's always a drama-queen when she's not in control. I remember when she was 4 years old and I tried to teach her how to swim-" _

"_Mom! Please don't bring that up now! Just tell me what's going on." I implored impatiently, feeling scared for the first time since the beginning of the conversation. _

"_All you need to know is that everything's going to be fine honey. Whatever happens, don't lose your head." My mother encouraged wisely. _

"_And be prepared for anything. Remember what I taught you: upper cut to the nose and slide on the ankles." Brandy instructed matter-of-factly with a grim expression. _

"_Time for us to go Brandy, otherwise we'll never get to that boutique I was telling you about. Tootles London!" My mother greeted with an enthusiastic wave. Brandy blew me a kiss before departing after my mother's clicking high heels. _

"_Wait! What's going on? What do I need an upper cut for? Come back!" I implored hysterically._

_All the while, the scene in front of me was fading rapidly, as if the curls of smoke were literally enveloping the ruined building before me and the two figures of the women I loved. And then I remembered that I was alone and all around me was black and sparse…_

I woke to the sound of several men cackling near my ears. I opened my eyelids with difficulty, feeling like my head was spinning off of my neck. When I finally took in my surroundings, I still had no idea where I was. All I could make out was that I was in some sort of warehouse. The smell around me was strangely potent and musty, like boiled sweat. But there was also another smell in the air that I could taste with my tongue. It was bitter, but it made my senses more heightened and giddy. Crap, I'm stuck in one of OPIUM's cocaine warehouses. And I was strapped to a chair; tied securely with thick boat ropes. How original…

As if to reaffirm that, I noticed two men conversing near a wooden door, my only way out. Both looked like unsavoury characters out of a Tintin comic with over exaggerated eyebrows and moustaches. Neither looked like they had bathed in weeks. They stopped talking when they noticed that I was conscious and began walking ominously towards me.

"Hey look, Goldilocks is finally awake," the shorter of the two greeted with a menacing smile.

"Stupid, Goldilocks is blonde. This one's a princess," the taller of the two clarified with a leer as they began circling me.

I continued struggling against the knotted boat rope while Dumb & Dumbass continued taunting me.

"You're right, she's a princess. Is Daddy coming to rescue you, little girl?" Dumbass crooned, taking care to breathe all over me.

I took in his scent and nearly retched. Hadn't bathed in weeks was a slight exaggeration; more like years. I wished at this particular moment that I could forget to breathe.

"I know what we can call her: Rapunzel. Trapped in the tower, waiting for your prince to come. But while you're waiting, you can get comfortable with me in the mean time. I'll take you places you've never been before." Dumb purred, coming to lean close to me.

"Wow, sexy. Is that what you tell your wife right before you fuck her?" I demanded in a low seductive voice wrought with sarcasm.

That did it. I barely had time to flinch when Dumb drew back his hand and smacked me hard across the face. I began chuckling loudly to stifle the burning sting across my cheek when Dumb started yelling at me.

"Listen to me, you little bitch! You're not calling the shots here, I am! As long as you're still strapped to that chair, I can do whatever the fuck I want with you! Capiche?" he thundered, his face inches from mine.

"Hey man, cool it. The boss said that no one's supposed to touch her. She's just a stupid rich broad anyway. Leave her alone." Dumbass chided wisely.

"Yeah man, cool it. Besides, haven't you ever heard of a girl playing hard to get? You get hard and I'll play." I interjected coyly with a wide smile.

With an audible sigh, Dumb gave me one last withering glare before moving away from me.

"I'm gonna go check on those shipping schedules, stay here with her. Don't go anywhere…princess." Dumb scoffed before exiting through the wooden door. Dumbass choked out a wheezing laugh while I rolled my eyes. Once, just once, it would be nice to get roughed up by an intelligent criminal.

While Dumbass busied himself with something behind which I couldn't see, I began weighing up my options for escape. I had no way of glancing down at my watch on my wrist, so I did one better. I estimated that it must've been more than 12 hours since I'd been abducted and I was obviously being held captive at one of OPIUM/OPTIMUM's numerous warehouses. And I guessed further that it would have to be a warehouse in close proximity to OPTIMUM's head offices downtown where the CEO and Board of Directors held court. At this moment I also wondered whether my superiors where aware that I was missing. According to my own knowledge of OPIUM's previous kidnappings of public figures, I instinctively knew that Laurent Savoy, or perhaps a subordinate, had already contacted Omar with the news and terms of negotiation.

As to the terms of negotiation, I was drawing a blank. Why was I even being held hostage? Could this be because of what had transpired over lunch between myself and Laurent Savoy? Was he somehow holding me hostage to put pressure on Daddy to sell the Boston Tipton over to OPTIMUM Pharmaceuticals? If that was the case, then Daddy should have been contacted already by either OPIUM or DEMON under the guise of a bureau of investigation. Which left another important question: when would I be rescued?

I sifted through the dregs of my mind to what I remembered of Section 12, sub-section (6) of DEMON's handbook concerning hostage scenarios and negotiations. Once DEMON became aware that one of their agents or more had been abducted by a criminal syndicate, it would take them approximately 2 days to call in the services of a professional hostage negotiator, usually from the FBI. Once the negotiator was properly briefed on the situation, he or she would then make contact with the syndicate. Now depending on the extent of successful negotiations factored into the possible risk of fatalities, the process could take an additional 3 days. So I was looking at 5 days worth of red tape before the cavalry would eventually come riding over the mountains to get me. That's if I wasn't dead before then. So when it came down to it, it was up to me to figure out a way to get myself out of this predicament before the 5 days were up. Dumbass began whistling loudly as he came to stand with his back to me in front of the wooden door. Without another second's hesitation, I began feverishly working on the rope knots at my wrists with my fingernails, trying to dislodge them. Okay Rapunzel, it's time to climb down the goddamn tower…

I couldn't tell how long it had been since Dumb had left the room. How long did it take to check a shipping schedule? Or maybe that was just code for him to go flog his log in private. Something told me that Dumbass would be too much of a party pooper in that scenario. And speaking of the bearded moron, he came sauntering towards me again while I struggled earnestly to create some friction between my wrists and the ropes to try and dislodge them.

"Hey Rapunzel, you look like you're a little tied up. Get it, tied up? Like you're busy!" Dumbass chortled, enjoying his joke thoroughly while I shook my head solemnly.

Why, oh why was I blessed with breathtaking beauty and a large cranium to boot? Was this God's way of punishing me for being a narcissistic bitch all my life?

"Impressive. Did it take you 30 minutes just to come up with that one? What a burn." I retorted maliciously.

"Hey, don't get cocky with me princess. I'm the one standing upright while you're sitting like a chump waiting on Prince Charming." Dumbass returned with surprising finesse.

All I needed was maybe another hour to get these ropes off of my wrist. And then I would be more than ready to kick Dumbass in his less-than-evolved skull.

"I hate to disappoint you, but the only reason you're standing upright is because of your direct descent from a Neanderthal. The only thing you're missing is a club accompanied with low grunting." I quipped sweetly.

Impressive, he was even scratching his head in a perfect impression of a Neanderthal.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Dumbass queried in confusion.

"It means you're an idiot." A voice supplied from behind him.

Before I could blink, someone I couldn't see for the moment had pinched the pressure point in Dumbass's neck, sending him careening onto the cement floor. I couldn't believe my eyes at what I was seeing. Lance was now standing in front of me, wearing a black jump suit and matching trainers.

"Oh dear God, I'm experiencing a psychotic break. Am I dead already?" I asked myself rapidly, feeling like I was breaking out into a cold sweat.

"London, you're neither dead nor experiencing a psychotic break. Now shut up and hold still, so I can untie you." Lance instructed impatiently and knelt behind my chair.

"Lance, what the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in?" I demanded in one breath while he busied himself with the ropes.

"Well, I counted to three, rubbed my hands together, whispered the words 'Ala Ka Zam' and bam, the doors opened." Lance supplied with a mischievous smile in that familiar drawl of his that I'd come to love.

"Oh ha ha, you're so funny as always that I clean forgot to laugh. Shouldn't you be alerting the cavalry outside?" I asked curiously while he continued undoing the knots around my wrists.

"There is no cavalry, it's just me. So we've gotta move fast and get the hell out of here. Now, are you up to it?" Lance demanded, all business-like.

"Of course I am. Less talking and more untying." I commanded in a chipper tone.

Lance must've taken that literally because he fell silent when he was finished and came to stand in front of me. Before I could respond, he was kneeling in front of me and examining my face.

"Shit, who did this to you?" he demanded painstakingly, touching my inflamed cheek lightly with his fingertips.

"It's no big deal. It was Neanderthal's partner in crime. I said some things that pissed him off." I replied nonchalantly.

"If he comes back in the next few seconds, I'm going to hurt him." Lance promised in a low voice wrought with repressed fury.

"You've done more than enough already Lance. Let me do the honours with that creep." I insisted vehemently which he nodded in agreement with.

As luck would have it, Dumb reentered the room just as I moved towards the door.

"What the-" he spluttered right before I struck him under the chin with the full force of my upper wrist, sending him sprawling unconscious onto his back.

"Looks like I am calling the shots, jackass." I muttered in disgust.

"Don't they make the cutest couple?" Lance murmured in awe, after he had dragged both Dumb & Dumbass into the corner of the room and laid them together in each other's arms.

Then I followed Lance out of my make-shift holding cell only to be met with more opposition in what looked like a storage room.

"Looks like jackass dialed a friend." Lance murmured softly.

"Or 4." I agreed dully.

"We're gonna have to fight 'em off. Are you up to it?" Lance asked in a concerned voice.

"Always." I responded confidently, balling my fists at my side.

Lance nodded at me once more before we both took our positions. Just as one of the thugs reached for his gun, I struck at him with my leg, knocking the gun out of his hand with a front kick. And then I made use of a 360° hook, which hit my opponent square in the chest, knocking him clean off his feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lance taking on two thugs at a time. In a matter of seconds, I watched Lance crouch down as they both came at him. Lance made use of a 2-leg sweep, which dislodged his first opponent coming at him from the left; then he pushed him in the chest, causing him to topple backwards and hit his head hard on the hard concrete floor. Just when I thought his second opponent had caught him unawares, Lance retrieved what looked like a small pruning knife from a back pocket. Making use of an ice-pick grip manoeuvre by concealing the blade in the palm of his hand, he plunged the blade into the side of his second opponent's knee. While the man bellowed in pain, Lance shut him up by striking at the Golgi tendon at the back of his elbow and then twisting elbow joint, causing him to black out on the spot. Just as the fourth thug came charging at Lance from the front, I stepped in front of him and grabbed at the man's arm into an arm-lock, thrusting it away from his body. And then I sent him careening to the ground with one of my 360° spinning heel kick to the head.

"Nice," Lance complimented sincerely with an approving smirk in my direction.

"You too." I agreed, matching his tone.

I picked up a stray gun from the floor and put it in my back pocket. Lance took my free hand gently, but firmly in his. And then we made a beeline for the corridor just outside the storage room, leading towards the exit. Before we could go any further, we heard gun shots echoing behind us, coming from the direction of the storage room. Instinctively, Lance pulled me behind his body to shield me. The exit was behind us and we just manage to scramble to safety behind a pillar in the corridor. It appeared that two or more men were hiding out of our peripheral view, attempting to shoot at us from beyond the storage room.

"I'll distract them while you head for the exit. I'll join you in a few seconds," Lance instructed quickly while grabbing a gun from his ankle holster.

I nodded to show him that I'd understood.

"Go!" Lance yelled and began firing in the direction of the storage room at the end of the corridor.

I began sprinting like Satan was behind me, ducking occasionally at the sound of fresh gun fire above my head. To my intense relief, I saw that Lance was only a few centimeters away from me, crawling on his elbows and knees towards me by the time I got to the exit. I began shooting in the direction of the storage room with my borrowed gun to give Lance time to get to the exit. And then when our bodies were level with each other, I shot a few more rounds while Lance sprinted out the door. Then I ditched the gun and closed the door sharply behind me. And the two of us began sprinting down a narrow alley outside the warehouse.

"Where's your ride?" I asked between gasping breaths.

"Just a few metres away around the corner to the right." Lance responded through gritted teeth.

Then we veered violently off to the right towards Lance's car. He touched a button on a remote on his car keys with a free hand, causing some lights on the car to blink furtively. And then we both dove gratefully into the car, seat belts the farthest thing from either of our minds. With a flick of his wrist, Lance turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. Then with a shove of his hand on the gear box and a twist of the steering wheel, we were hurtling out of the alley at a suicidal speed towards freedom.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when I noticed that Lance had pulled his car into the underground parking lot of the shopping mall where DEMON's headquarters were located. Once again, Lance took my hand as we got out of the car. I made no objections to this gesture; it seemed only natural. The warm pressure was soothing to my now shivering body.

"Are you cold?" Lance asked shrewdly as we walked.

"I'm fine," I replied quickly, thinking only of getting upstairs.

Instead of bothering with the staff entrance in the shopping mall, Lance opted for the freight elevator in the parking lot. I secretly concurred, thinking of the funny stares we'd probably get in the mall based on our appearance. The elevator ride was surprisingly short and we stepped into the lobby atrium 15 seconds later, still hand in hand. One of the interns spotted us exiting the elevator and dropped the files she was carrying in shock. Collecting herself, she sprinted in the direction of Eleanor's office, leaving the files on the floor.

"Don't worry, I get that a lot." I joked feebly.

A few seconds later, Eleanor came towards us with the intern in tow. Her expression wasn't the picture of relief; she looked disturbed.

"Agent L, you and Agent Oz go wait in the conference room. Myself, Omar and HALO's heads will meet with you shortly." Eleanor stated briskly. And with that, she strode in the direction of Omar's office. What, no relief at my safe return? No happiness that I wasn't dead? What does a person have to do to get a few tears?

Lance and I were left to wait in the conference room for nearly 20 minutes, making small conversation.

"You're in trouble, aren't you?" I asked in a small voice.

"Pretty much." Lance replied quietly.

"Lance, I'm so sorry." I said sincerely.

"Don't be. I don't regret what I've done, not for a second." He responded earnestly, his eyes locked on mine.

I opened up my mouth to say something, but got completely side-tracked at the appearance and mine and Lance's superiors entering the conference room. I'd dealt with Moseby and Daddy on occasion when I'd royally screwed up. But that was nothing compared to the tension in the room right now. Although, Eleanor and Omar's expression were pretty tame next to Lynette and Salvador's.

"Agent L, how are you feeling?" Omar asked me politely while taking in my appearance with close scrutiny.

"I'm fine sir. No permanent damage." I joked hoarsely with a wry smile.

"I suppose that Agent Oz must be congratulated for a successful operation." Omar commented in a sardonic tone.

"And so he shall. But first, we need to make the necessary arrangements for Reuben Marshall's safe relocation." Salvador stated by way of greeting.

"Relocation? He's being moved?" I questioned curiously, glancing at Salvador.

Last I'd heard, HALO had taken complete charge of the interrogations of Reuben Marshall. So far, they'd been just as unsuccessful as when DEMON had first caught him.

"Yes, to one of HALO's secure safe houses. We're hoping that he'll feel inclined to talk in a more intimate setting." Salvador explained in a straight forward manner.

"I'm sure." Omar remarked dryly.

"If you'll excuse us, we have some appropriate recompense to organize." Lynette announced with the slightest hint of menace in her voice.

Just as the HALO troupe was about to depart, I found that I was on my feet.

"Wait," I called out, my hand going towards Lance's and gripping it tightly in mine.

"Whatever the consequences of your actions today, you saved my life Lance. Thank you." I murmured, my fingers entwined in his.

For a split second, it felt like there was no one else in the room, my eyes locked on his with deliberate intensity.

"You're welcome." Lance responded meekly, gripping my hand all the while.

"We should go. We'll be in touch." Salvador greeted, glancing over at Eleanor and Omar.

Then he, Lynette and Lance took their leave of us without looking back. Eleanor's eyes followed them and they flitted back onto me.

"Are you sure you're alright London?" Eleanor finally asked of me in a cautious voice.

"I'm fine. Something else has happened hasn't it? While I was missing?" I questioned emphatically, not being to take the tension anymore. It was Omar who broke the silence.

"We've uncovered certain evidence – phone calls if you will between your father and what appears to be a phone number listed to Optimum Pharmaceuticals. We are assuming that it's Laurent Savoy's private line. The phone calls go back as far as a few days ago." Omar began seriously.

"What does that mean? Has my father actually agreed to sell the Tipton to Optimum?" I thundered, losing my self-control for the first time all day.

"If your father has, it will only be a matter of days before Optimum announces the purchase in a press conference. You know how robust they are." Eleanor replied in a sardonic tone.

"I can't believe my father would do this without consulting me first. That hotel is my inheritance, my home. Does he know that I was kidnapped?" I demanded impatiently, finding myself pacing the room as well.

"As to that, we're not certain. But if your father was aware of the fact, he most certainly didn't hear from us." Omar responded matter-of-factly.

"I need to go talk to my father." I announced with sudden vehemence.

"I advise against that Agent L, considering the trauma you've already experienced in the past 24 hours. You should go home and rest." Omar advised in his kindest tone.

"It won't be my home for much longer if my father's made a deal with the devil. We need to know what we're up against." I responded in a calmer voice, my rational faculties taking over.

Omar and Eleanor glanced at each other before Eleanor answered for the both of them.

"Very well. Go and speak to your father and glean what you can from him. But will you do two things before you see him?" Eleanor asked quickly.

"What?"

"Take a shower and dress into something less – conspicuous." Eleanor concluded with the slightest hint of a smile etched on her face.

I took Eleanor's advice and made a detour to the Tipton before going to see my father. Knowing that Moseby would've noticed my absence at dinner last night and stopped short of calling the coast guard to look for me, I made sure that I had a plausible alibi in place. I paid Moseby off figuratively by telling him that my friend Chelsea had called me last night and invited me for a sleep over at her house at the last minute. That seemed to appease him temporarily; I just hoped that he hadn't scrutinized my inflamed cheek too intently.

Then I re-entered my suite and took a long and indulgent bath which soothed my aching muscles. The long soak gave me some extra time to think about what I was going to say to my father when I went to his office. Knowing his schedule, he was bound to be engaged in a million meetings all day long. Unfortunately, I was not in the mood to be trifled with. I needed answers and I needed them right now. I dressed myself carefully, ignoring brighter fabrics in my wardrobe for clothing that was lighter in colour and temperament. And then I exited the Tipton just as quickly as I had the day before.

I got into my SLK Kompressor (a gift left to me by Brandy) and made my way towards Tipton Enterprises, my father's place of work and permanent residence. The statuesque building was buzzing with my father's employers, each bustling to and fro in their best efforts to keep him happy and rich. His office was located on the 80th floor. I took the lift up and allowed my thoughts to wander while I travelled for approximately 20 seconds. When I arrived on the 80th floor, I walked purposely towards Francine's desk, my father's second assistant. I felt more than gratified that my father's first assistant, Cindy, was no where in sight. The last thing I needed was to get arrested for first-degree murder of slutty assistants.

"London, this is a surprise." Francine said with a start by way of greeting.

"Hi Francine, is my father in his office?" I inquired politely with a smile.

"Unfortunately he's not. He's in a meeting just down the hall." Francine responded ruefully.

"Thanks, I'll just pop in for a second."

"London, your father specifically asked me to ensure that there be no interruptions." Francine stated sternly.

"This is important Francine," was all I said before power-walking in the direction of the conference room where my father was.

And then I opened the oak-paneled doors with a loud swinging noise to the amazement and surprise of my father's colleagues seated inside. My father's eyes dilated to twice their size when he caught sight of me. I tried not to look too abashed for the interruption.

"London, what are you doing here?" My father demanded impatiently.

"I need to speak to you." I told him plainly.

"I'm in the middle of an important meeting. We'll talk later." My father replied dismissively.

But I didn't allow myself to be put off by my father's dismissal. This couldn't wait.

"No Dad, now. It's about the sale of the Boston Tipton." I stated in an icy tone.

I had said the magic words. My father made some murmured apology that I couldn't hear before he came walking towards me. I didn't allow him to catch up to me, but insisted on walking a few paces ahead of him back towards his office. I ignored Francine's questioning look as I opened the door and came to stand in front of the mahogany desk. My father entered a few seconds later with an unfathomable expression on his face. He walked around me and settled into his comfortable leather recliner behind his desk. Once he was in front of me, he regarded me with a beady and scrutinizing expression.

"Now that you have my undivided attention, would you mind explaining why you interrupted my meeting?" my father demanded in a booming voice.

"For exactly what I said. Are you planning on selling the Boston Tipton to Optimum Pharmaceuticals?" I demanded in a biting tone.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Is it true?"

"Not yet. It's still under consideration."

"Are you really going to sell my home and put the jobs and livelihoods of your numerous hotel employees at risk?"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic London. You're not going to lose your home nor is anyone going to lose their jobs. Optimum only wants to sublet the hotel during its off-peak seasons with which to entertain its high-profile clients." My father stated genially.

"And you decided this without my knowledge? When were you going to tell me?" I demanded angrily.

"Calm down London, there's no need to get so worked up. It's a lucrative business deal. Everything's above board."

"Is that what you really think? Do you honestly think Optimum only wants to sublet the Tipton? Did you just decide this on a whim without looking into anything?"

That's when my father rose from his chair and stood across from me, his expression becoming increasingly infuriated. I was at least a head taller than my father. But in my experience, I found it difficult to cite a scenario when anyone, friend, foe, colleague or subordinate, had ever dared challenge my father on any decision he'd made, let alone his own flesh and blood. It took every ounce of courage and self-restraint to keep my face perfectly composed.

"I own more than 15 close corporations and possess a 50% holding in 20 other conglomerates. Whenever I decide on anything, it's never on a whim. I agreed to a meeting with the CEO of Optimum because I'm interested in increasing my network of business alliances." My father answered diplomatically with just a hint of ego mania.

"Funny, and I thought all you cared about was money." I remarked sardonically.

"I don't like your tone one bit, young lady." My father returned in an edgy voice.

"I don't know what Laurent Savoy has told you about his plans for the Tipton. But Dad, you have to trust me when I say that whatever he's planning is not in the best interest of the hotel. Please don't commit to anything on paper yet." I pleaded.

"I don't know who you've been talking to London, but you're sadly misinformed about a lot of things." My father stated in what was meant to be a sardonic tone.

"I know a lot more than you think." I said in a determined voice.

And then my father studied my face for a few seconds with a searching look. Whenever my father looked at me for that long, I always knew that nothing good could come of it. And I wasn't disappointed.

"I highly doubt that. You see London, I went to both Harvard and M.I.T. and got simultaneous degrees in business management and economics. I made a name for myself in the business world. And you've profited from my business ventures. You've gone to the best private schools, travelled all around the world. You've lived in luxury and comfort all your life and I've footed the bill for everything, including your lavish shopping sprees. You come and go as you please. Like last night for instance; Moseby called me and told me you didn't come back to the hotel. You've never given much thought or consideration for anyone's feelings, let alone any intellectual thinking of any kind. It's surprising that you would start now." My father concluded with a wry smile, which made me feel like I was tasting bile on my tongue.

Great, so the jerk didn't know that I was kidnapped last night. Now I feel so much better. I clutched desperately at the lump in my throat, which was threatening to break free and spiral into uncontrollable tears. I'd heard it a thousand times from every class of person imaginable: teachers, parents, my class mates, celebrities, complete strangers, my so-called friends. London Tipton is just another dumb heiress, an air-head. So when my father said it or rather insinuated it, it hurt all the more that my father had zero faith in me. His only child.

"You're right Dad. Maybe I'm not as smart as you are; maybe I'm just not that smart period. And maybe I don't know as much about business as you do. But my instincts are telling me that this Optimum deal is all wrong. And if you listened to your instincts, you'd know that too. There's also something else I've learnt about you today. Time and time again, you can't be trusted."

"What is that supposed to mean?" my father demanded in a steely tone.

"Why don't you ask Brandy? Oops, I forgot. Maybe you should ask your assistant Cindy. She's still alive." I replied coldly.

And with that, I turned around and walked away from my father. Then I got into my car and slammed my foot down on the accelerator, leaving a violent trail of scorch marks on the road behind me.

Later that evening, I found myself at the same bar I'd inhabited last night with my colleagues. I drove around for hours in circles it seemed until I couldn't drive anymore. And now I was here, drinking to fill the void in my chest. I wasn't drunk by any means, but with any luck I would be within the hour. All I could think about was how much I was losing. Everything I'd worked towards for an entire year, my home, my father's love, if I ever had that to begin with. I had no idea what my next move would be concerning OPIUM. I just couldn't comprehend how they'd managed to pull the wool over my own father's eyes. But for now I didn't want to think about that, any of it. All I wanted to was drink till there was nothing left to think about it.

I was momentarily dazed when I heard my cell phone ringing in my purse. I didn't recognize the number, but opened the flap of my phone anyway.

"London?"

It was Lance's voice. Why the hell was he calling me?

"Lance, why the hell are you calling me?" I asked in a less than gracious tone.

"London, where are you?"

"At a bar, the one I was at last night when those OPIUM thugs abducted me." I answered with ease.

"London, I'm coming to get you. Something's happened. Stay where you are."

And with that, Lance hung up the phone and the line went dead. Non-plussed, I put my phone back into my purse and ordered another drink.

I wasn't sure how long it was after that when Lance suddenly came bursting through the doors. I saw him scan the bar before his eyes fell on me. He was by my side in a matter of seconds. I could hear his heart thudding in his chest, that's how close he was to me. Every inch of his body told me that he'd sought me out for a reason, that something was wrong.

"Lance, what are you–"

"London, you have to come with me right now." Lance ordered quickly, glancing quickly around him.

"What's going on?" I asked in a bewildered voice.

"We have to leave now. OPIUM's on its way."

"On its way? Are they coming after us?"

"Not us, you."

"Me? What do they want with me?"

"I don't know, but you can't go home."

"Why not?"

"The Tipton's on lock-down. OPIUM's taken it hostage."

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets at this piece of information. Lock-down? Hostage?

"What are you talking about Lance? OPIUM only takes a building hostage where there's any resistance. My father agreed to Laurent's contract."

"I don't know what's happened in the last few hours. But whatever it was, your father changed his mind at the last minute. The outside of the hotel's crawling with police and agents."

"Wait a minute – you said lock-down. Are there hotel guests and employees still trapped inside?" I spluttered in alarm with dawning comprehension, grasping his arm in a vice-like grip.

"Everyone who didn't check out before 3pm. All of the day employees only clock out at 6pm."

Oh my God. It's Tuesday. Maddie finishes school around 14:45. Then she goes straight to the Tipton and works between 3pm-6pm. Oh my God, Maddie! The Martin Family! Moseby! Esteban! They're all trapped in the Tipton!

"London, we have to go now!" Lance shouted impatiently, pulling at my arm.

His words seemed to echo in my ears like a walk-man on low battery. My feet were glued to the spot and I felt like I couldn't breathe. It happened in a matter of seconds. The glass surrounding the main window of the bar shattered in front of Lance and I, liberating my ear drums with explosive clarity. The entire glass frame had been swept away by a single bullet fired at it with poignant precision. I felt my body twirl at a 180° angle, Lance's body beneath mine, his hands clutching at my waist as we rolled to safety. OPIUM wasn't coming anymore. They were already here.

**Hope you all enjoyed that. I tried to take the advice of reviewers and include more ass-kicking scenes. Hope they were plausible, let me know. I'm gonna have to come up with an even cooler chapter title after this, damn! Hope you all liked the brief fluff moments between London and Lance. I'll try not to disappoint with later chapters. Please, please review!**


	7. On The Run

**Author's Note: Man, what a rush! I love writing! First and foremost, I'd like to thank PerennialKillJoy again for his invaluable input and correction of my work so far. I couldn't have continued on with this story if not for his creativity and objectivity. I'd also like to thank the reviewers out there who've stuck with my story so far, especially to Wyntirsno and tiger002. The support means a lot. This chapter was originally meant to be longer, but I decided to split it up and make the 8th chapter a follow-up to this chapter. This way I can space out all the dialogue and action by making the story last longer than I initially intended. Hope you all enjoy the chapter, Snappelinz out!**

After the explosive clarity of a million shards of glass ringing in my ears, the piercing screams of people surrounding me dulled my senses just as quickly. Just as Lance pulled the both of us to safety behind the counter, I remembered where I was. The bar; OPIUM was already here. And in a few seconds, who knows how many thugs were going to come running into the establishment after their target: me.

"London, we have to get out of here now!" Lance exclaimed over the din of chaos.

The cogs in my head were starting to turn. There was an exit through the kitchen leading out to an alleyway, which would take us back to the street just in front of the bar. Depending on the traffic at the intersection, we might just be able to have enough cover to get to Lance's car, wherever he was parked.

"Let's go through the kitchen," I answered after a few seconds.

And then for the second time in 24 hours, Lance and I were running like our lives depended on it. Lance, who was behind me, began firing his gun against the echoes of shots being fired from behind us. As we passed several rows of metal shelves in the kitchen, we both began knocking them over deliberately in case our pursuers tried to follow us directly. Just as I slammed the kitchen exit behind us, Lance retreated back towards the door with a large waste bin in his arms and placed it in front of the door. And then we began sprinting down the alleyway, the chilly Boston air enveloping us from every angle.

"Where's your ride?" I asked for the second time in 24 hours. Wow, déjàvu.

"At the end of the alley." Lance replied quickly.

"Take out your gun, just in case," he added as an after thought.

And then we both dove into the car at the sound of gun shots being fired at us from the front of the bar. Within 3 seconds, Lance had sped off away from the bar. Nearly 5 seconds later, I saw a black van coming towards us in the rear-view mirror and then heard the spray of gun fire in the distance. I opened up the window a fraction and began shooting my own gun at the direction of the van to dislodge their pursuit. This was met with a blast at the back of Lance's car; a bullet had lodged itself in the back windscreen, causing it to crack in several places.

"Get down!" Lance commanded in a hysterical tone as he veered violently off course.

He too ducked slightly in his seat while he turned the wheel expertly back towards the road ahead. We managed to avoid a collision with a parked convertible on Lance's left by only clipping its side-view mirror marginally. I could now see at least three different vans hot on our tails. I decided to take a chance and aimed my gun low at the back tire of the van directly behind us. Bulls Eye! The wheel collapsed beneath the van, causing its front to crash ferociously into the van on its right, both vans now spinning haphazardly into another parked car next to a meter.

That left the last van still on our trail, barreling closer towards us in Lance's rear-view mirror. Both Lance and I lunged forward in our seats right after the van slammed into us from the back. Luckily, we both seemed to have only suffered minor whiplash because we were wearing our seatbelts this time. We were now coming up first towards a four-way intersection. The ghosts of cars were zipping at a perpendicular angle across the intersection from us. The traffic robot, which had been green for a few seconds, had suddenly changed to amber. It was time to make a choice.

"We're gonna have to drive right through the intersection!" Lance roared over the sound of the engine.

"There's a construction ramp to the left right before the traffic robot. If you hit that at the right speed, crossing the intersection won't be a problem!" I yelled back quickly.

"That's suicidal!"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Good point."

And that was the end of that argument as Lance veered off deliberately to the left, preparing to mount the construction ramp. For a millisecond, Lance's car trembled when the wheels caught the bottom of the ramp as we made our ascent. But once we were airborne, all sense of gravity ceased to exist, at least for about 3 seconds. I was more focused on the Range Rover passing just below us at that moment as it crossed the intersection perpendicularly. If we lost altitude at any second, crashing on top of the Range Rover's roof was a definite likelihood at this point. But as luck would have it in impossible situations, the back tires of Lance's car only grazed the roof of the Range Rover by a fraction. And then the seatbelts rescued our bodies from pitching forward through the windscreen as the front tires bounced viciously back onto the tar road. To my intense relief, I saw our pursuer's van collide mercifully against the side of the Range Rover, but closer to where I presumed the fuel-cap was located on the vehicle. I said a silent prayer above and hoped that no one else was hurt.

"Whoa, what a rush!" Lance exclaimed jubilantly with a broad grin on his face while he drove.

So like a guy. We nearly get smeared across the pavement like Tapenade on a cracker and he's tripping off a major high because of it.

"Where's the nearest exit off this Kamikaze road?" Lance enquired once he'd calmed down.

"That depends. Where you heading?" I asked pointedly.

"West Roxbury."

"Then you'll want to turn right at the robot ahead. That'll take you towards the intersection of Washington Street and West Roxbury Parkway." I informed him quickly.

With a silent assent, Lance turned off to the right and we began driving in almost virtual silence. After the adrenaline had finally wound down, I started thinking about the predicament we were in. The hostage situation at the Tipton; OPIUM thugs all over our asses. I finally broke the silence when I noticed that the setting had changed abruptly. We were now driving along a small street littered with corner café's and small-town shops.

"Where are we?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Centre Street, in West Roxbury." Lance answered softly.

"Where are we going?"

"Bellevue Hill. We'll be safe there."

Even as Lance uttered the words with such authority and seeming assurance, I noticed that his hands were still clutched tightly around the steering wheel as we drove. I'd come across the name 'Bellevue Hill' numerous times in my American History textbook before. All I remembered was that it was the highest natural peak in the city of Boston. Why would Lance be taking me to the top of a hill?

We climbed the hill steadily along a dirt road. When we reached the top, Lance directed the car off the dirt road to the right. We were now venturing along a pathway (for lack of a better word) overgrown with long grass and tree roots along the edge of what looked like a small wooded area. If I wasn't thoroughly convinced of Lance's efforts to protect me this entire time, I would've assumed that he'd taken me out into the woods to kill me. Before I could let my imagination run away with me, the narrow pathway opened abruptly into a type of clearing straight ahead. At first I couldn't make sense of the darkness before me. But as my eyes adjusted to the indigo sky, I could finally make out the faint outline of what appeared to be a house suspended on a structure much like stilts. That's when I noticed that the car had come to a stop. After Lance had taken his keys out of the ignition, he came over to my side of the car and unnecessarily helped me out. Then taking my hand gently, he led me towards a winding wooden stairway leading up to what appeared to be a small balcony. After fidgeting with a set of keys, Lance finally managed to unlock the door in front of him. And then he switched on a light close to the door. What had been shadowed in darkness just seconds before was now enveloped in bright fluorescent lighting, pervading every crack and corner. I gasped.

I found myself standing in an open-spaced living-room of a single-storey house. But unlike the forest outside which was littered with debris and wild vegetation, this abode was tidy and contemporary. The living room contained a rocking chair and a two-seater couch, a coffee table in front of them. In front of the coffee table was a glass entertainment unit holding an impressive stereo system and what looked like a 50-inch LCD TV screen. With a quick scan of my eye, I estimated that the house must contain at least 2 bedrooms with an open hallway across the living room which I assumed led to a kitchen. To my immense surprise, the back wall of the living room appeared to have the biggest fish tank I'd ever laid eyes on etched right into it. I must've been gaping because Lance suddenly broke the silence by laughing loudly at my expression.

"Impressed?" he demanded lightly.

"Vaguely. Is this your house?" I asked dumbfounded.

"It is now. It belonged to my grandfather. He left it to me in his will." Lance explained carefully.

"And the stilts outside?"

"The house has always been suspended above the ground. But after my grandfather died, I decided to give the house my own personal touch."

"I can see that. How is your fish tank a part of the wall itself? Don't your fish get hungry?" I teased dryly, which made Lance chuckle softly.

"The tank is built on a metallic rotator, which allows the tank to be pulled out when it's feeding time. I control it with a remote."

"What happens if the remote control breaks? Then your fish become a permanent fixture on your wall." I teased flippantly.

"In that case, the other side of the tank stretches back into my bedroom, which has an adjoining wall with the living room. It's a bit of a long walk, but I can just go into my room to feed the fish." Lance responded smugly, which made me roll my eyes.

"I can't believe you actually live here. It's so…quiet and peaceful." I murmured as I went to examine a photo frame on the glass entertainment unit.

"That's why I like it up here. I get all the privacy I want with the assurance of safety at the same time." Lance stated confidentially.

"Must be nice." I agreed wistfully, feeling a pang of sadness for a split second.

"Don't worry London, we'll be safe here. I promise." Lance stated seriously, coming to stand behind me.

I turned to face him and realized that he was closer to my body than I initially anticipated. For 4 seconds I couldn't seem to remember where I was or my name for that matter. So I figured that was time to divert his attention by changing the subject.

"But Lance, I don't understand any of this. How did you even get to me in time at the bar? I thought Lynette and Salvador dispatched you to Reuben Marshall's relocation operation. Come to think of it, I'm surprised they still let you be part of it, considering you didn't follow protocol with my solo rescue mission," I began conversationally while pacing the room.

"Well both Lynette and Salvador decided that the relocation operation would be a fitting punishment for me. Besides stake-outs, I absolutely hate transportation assignments, especially relocations to a safe house. But before we even left HALO headquarters, we were ambushed coming out of the parking lot by OPIUM operatives. Somehow they found out about the relocation. They rigged the SUV with explosives which went off the minute we approached the vehicle." Lance answered grimly.

I stopped my pacing and stared at him with a disbelieving expression.

"Was anyone hurt? What about Marshall?" I demanded quickly.

"The other agents mostly suffered a few cuts and bruises with one concussion. Marshall got the brunt of it, second-degree burns. We rushed him to the hospital immediately." Lance replied matter-of-factly.

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked in a quiet voice.

There was something in Lance's expression that worried me.

"Save for the burns, the on-call doctor assured us that he would make a full recovery in time. But-"

"But what?"

"We were all discussing Marshall's possible recovery outside the doors leading to the E.R. His doctor got a page from the nurse's station 15 minutes later. Reuben Marshall went into sudden cardiac arrest. They did everything they could to resuscitate him. He didn't make it." Lance concluded solemnly, bowing his head slightly.

I came to stand beside Lance once more, clutching my head in my hands momentarily.

"Oh my God, his heart must've given out due to the excessive trauma of his injuries. What did the doctors rule his death as?" I asked curiously.

"Heart failure. But I don't think that's what killed him." Lance stated ominously, a frown distorting his face.

"What do you mean?" I questioned suspiciously.

"Because he was left unattended for at least 10 minutes. I called Dr. Kessler, HALO's top toxicologist minutes after Reuben Marshall was declared dead. I asked her to do a full toxicology exam. I think that he was poisoned." Lance responded cryptically.

"Poisoned? With what? By whom? One of the doctors or nurses?" I queried in a flurry of excitement.

"Possibly. But I think it's more likely that an OPIUM operative got into the room while all our backs were turned and ensured that Marshall kept his mouth shut for good. It wouldn't be the first time they've killed one of their own to cover their asses."

"My God, that's awful. What do you think the toxicology report will reveal?"

"I'm not sure. But Dr. Kessler will let me know some time tomorrow." Lance concluded slowly, looking weary for the first time all night.

After that we looked away from each other speculatively for a few minutes, each of us lost in our respective thoughts. Finally, Lance glanced my way, giving me a wry smile.

"Enough speculation, you look dead on your feet. You should get some rest. You can have my bed. I'll take the couch." Lance stated considerately.

The way he suggested it made me think that there was in fact only one bed in the entire house. I became immediately hesitant.

"Lance no, I can't take your bed. This is ridiculous, you can't sleep on the couch, it's way too uncomfortable. There's more than enough room for the both us in your bed," I protested vehemently.

But Lance held up his hand to cut me off.

"London, it's okay. The couch is a sleeper sofa, so I'll be fine. You can check the drawers in the bedroom for some clothes to sleep in. There are some towels in the bathroom if you want to take a shower," he intervened wisely.

I made my way into Lance's bedroom and checked through his drawers. There were no designer labels in this particular drawer, but I did manage to find a grey sweat pants which looked like it might fit me and a matching baggy Celtics sweater which looked comfortable and warm. After Lance directed me to the bathroom, I took a shower. The warm water was exquisite against my tingling skin, rushing along ever crevice of my body and soothing my aching muscles. I decided against washing my hair, thinking it would be better to do it in the morning instead. Since I had no toothbrush of my own to do my usual night time ritual with, I consoled myself by chewing on a minty Mentos that I found in my purse. Then I put on Lance's Celtics track suit and trudged out of the bathroom. I entered the living room just as Lance was laying out a pillow and duvet across the couch. He had dressed himself for bed while I'd been in the shower, wearing a black sweat pants and a white wife-beater. He smiled approvingly at my attire.

"The Celtics look good on you," he stated appreciatively with a smile.

"Thanks. Maybe when all of this is over, I might actually watch some basketball," I returned with a wry chuckle.

"Lance, thank you for everything. That's twice that you've saved me now." I pointed out seriously.

"You're welcome. Now you owe me." Lance responded softly.

"I guess so. Good night." I murmured gently.

"Good night, sleep well."

"You too."

And with that, I gratefully got under the covers of Lance's bed. The duvet had some comic-strip super-hero draped across it that I couldn't quite place, but I suppressed my laughter at it all the same. Some boys just never grow up, do they? Then I turned off the lamp on a pedestal beside the bed. I thought that I might end up succumbing to my recent bout of insomnia and decided to amuse myself by staring at the ceiling. But somehow, my brain knew better than to resist sleep tonight. Whatever happened tomorrow, my body knew that I needed rest and peace of mind. I remember thinking vaguely about how Lance feeds his fish in his bedroom right before my eyelids closed in a hazy whirl of fatigue and apprehension.

I couldn't recall if I dreamt about anything in particular during the night. But I did recall waking up abruptly with a jerk of my neck. My eyes fluttered open feebly and a yawn escaped my mouth. Placing a hand over my mouth, I gazed absent-mindedly down at the duvet over my chest and gave a start. Why on earth did the Tipton maid put a duvet on my circular bed with a ridiculous comic strip on it? Silly, no maid at the Tipton has a death wish. This wasn't my bed; I wasn't sleeping in my room. Someone whistling 'Sitting on the Dock of the Bay' from outside the room brought me back to my senses. I was in Lance's bedroom, located in his one-storey house on stilts on Bellevue Hill, West Roxbury. He drove me here last night after we nearly got flattened by thugs on a busy traffic intersection. And just yesterday afternoon, OPIUM had taken my home, the Tipton hotel, as well as my friends and my father hostage. 24 hours seemed like a lifetime ago. I heard the sounds of plates and frying pans being banged about in the kitchen sink. I made Lance's bed as neatly as possible and decided to take a shower.

This time I took slightly longer in the shower, on account of having to wash my hair. God, I miss my Pantene anti-breakage shampoo and Trés Semme hair-care products. I wasn't sure what Lance and I were planning to do today. Whatever it was, I had to make sure that I bought some new clothes and other necessities like a toothbrush and Haagen-Dazs. I emerged from the shower nearly 40 minutes later, having retrieved a bathrobe from Lance's wardrobe, my hair hanging limply across my shoulders from the moisture. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw that Lance was already dressed and busy at the stove, making what looked like scrambled eggs. He had already set out two plates, cutlery, some bagels, coffee and the newspaper on the coffee table.

"Wow, dressed and breakfasting, all by 7:30am. I'm impressed." I stated by way of greeting while leaning casually against the kitchen door.

Lance wheeled around abruptly to face me. He took in my appearance and I suppressed a grin at his lingering stare.

"Morning, sleep well?" he enquired finally after relaxing his stance.

"Like a baby. Maybe it's those Batman sheets, I don't know. But I haven't slept that well in ages." I replied genuinely.

"Well, I'm glad I could be of service. You hungry?" he asked politely.

"Starving." I admitted sheepishly.

After that we both went to the living room and began eating breakfast. We didn't talk much during the affair; Lance was glancing occasionally at the newspaper while I was enjoying my scrambled eggs thoroughly. Just another thing that I didn't know about Fish Boy – he knew how to cook. While I was sipping on my coffee, I turned on the TV only to regret that I did to begin with. Naturally, every news station around the country and the world had footage of the Tipton under siege. There were reporters, cameramen and policemen all over the place. It was a zoo. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Lance was reading the main headline of the newspaper, which too had covered the recent hostage situation at the Tipton. I just hoped that my friends were okay and that they were safe, given the circumstances. I sighed audibly and put my head in my hands. Lance glanced up from the newspaper and smiled wanly at me.

"It's going to be okay London. We'll figure this out somehow," he stated consolingly.

"I know. I'm just nervous about the situation. Don't you think it's strange that we haven't heard anything yet from our superiors?" I asked curiously.

Lance shrugged before answering.

"They've probably got their hands full with debriefing the other agents. I let Lynette and Salvador know already that you were with me. It'll be a matter of time before we know what's happening." Lance responded matter-of-factly.

"I guess. I just hate sitting around and not doing anything." I stated ruefully.

"Let's change that. If you want to buy some clothes and other necessities, there are a couple of good shops on Centre Street." Lance suggested wisely.

It was as if he had read my mind. Was it possible to like a person more than what was necessary?

"You totally read my mind. I could use some shampoo. Your Nice & Easy doesn't do anything for my hair type." I teased, which made Lance laugh uproariously.

"Okay Ms. Hotel Heiress, let's go then. I'll drive," he returned evenly.

I wonder now if Lance regretted offering to take me shopping. Granted, the shopping for a toothbrush and other daily necessities took about 15 minutes at a drug store by a gas station. But shopping for clothing befitting for an heiress was another story altogether. I found two little boutique shops on Centre Street that suited me well. So the better part of an hour was spent trying on clothes and finally buying a few items which I liked. But I made sure not to charge anything to my debit or credit cards in case OPIUM was still looking for me. I paid for all my purchases with cash while Lance slipped into a grocery store to pick up more supplies for dinner. And then we headed back to his little house on the hill. It was soon after I began making grilled cheese sandwiches for the two of us for lunch when a call came through on his land line.

With a quick wave of his hand, Lance gestured to me to sit next to him on the couch across from where the phone sat on the coffee table. He had evidently switched the speaker phone on because a booming voice began talking. I recognized it as Omar's voice.

"Agent Oz and Agent L, is the line completely secure?" Omar enquired suspiciously.

"Yes sir, it's secure." Lance answered calmly.

"Excellent, I needed to be sure that the line hadn't been tapped. I will now debrief you on the current situation at the Tipton Hotel."

"There has been minimal engagement between OPIUM operatives and outside forces such as the Boston police and ourselves of course, as is custom in any of their hostage situations. The OPIUM security controlling the ground floor has informed us that there are approximately 750 guests in addition to about 60 employees in the hotel, based on the information given to them by Marion Moseby, the hotel manager. Wilfred Tipton is being kept in his penthouse suite on the 23rd floor under close supervision by Laurent Savoy and his personal security detail. We are uncertain yet about the number of armed OPIUM operatives situated in the hotel. Concerning security, the Tipton's lockdown codes haven't been activated yet, but it's only a matter of time before OPIUM prevents anyone getting in and getting out." Omar began in a grim tone.

"What's our current plan of action sir?" Lance enquired politely.

"Our first priority is to ensure that no guests or employees are harmed in any way by OPIUM operatives. We have already begun the negotiation process according to standard protocol."

"And if negotiations are unsuccessful?" I asked apprehensively.

"For now, it's our only option. We have to believe that negotiations will succeed in the end." Omar responded firmly.

"Alright. And what do you require of Agent Oz and myself?" I asked in a business-like tone, in spite of my dismay at current DEMON protocol.

"I _require_ the both of you to stay as far away from the Tipton as possible." Omar ordered in a hostile tone.

Lance and I exchanged quick looks with each other before Lance spoke again.

"But sir, don't you need all hands on deck?" Lance questioned in bewilderment.

"Certainly. But as for the two of you, I don't want you anywhere near the Tipton during the negotiation process."

"But sir, it's my hotel! How can you expect me to sit back and do nothing, least of all help?!" I thundered, finally losing the battle for professionalism.

"That's exactly what I expect you to do Agent L. I know it's your hotel, that's why I don't want you anywhere near it. You're too close to the situation. Agent Oz informed us last night about OPIUM's attempt to abduct you a second time. If you come into close proximity with the Tipton, there's no telling what Laurent Savoy or OPIUM might do. You might end up being a prisoner along with the other guests, or worse, dead. As for Agent Oz, his superiors informed me that he is suspended from active service indefinitely. So I will only tell the two of you one more time and I hope it will sink in. Do not, under any circumstances, go near the Tipton against my orders. Do I make myself clear?" Omar demanded in a threatening tone.

Lance shook his head before I answered for the both of us.

"Crystal."

"Excellent. Now I advise that the two of you stay exactly where you are, out of sight. We will brief you on any new developments as they occur. That is all for now."

And with that, Omar hung up the phone.

"This is bullshit. We should be out there helping with the negotiations." Lance retorted in a frustrated voice.

"Negotiations won't work. They're not supposed to. Whatever bargaining chip DEMON or HALO offers, it won't be enough for OPIUM. Look what happened at the Chrysler Building 2 years ago." I pointed out despondently.

"Well then, we can't let it go that far. We have to find some leverage of our own to get OPIUM to back down somehow." Lance murmured crisply, folding his hands together while he spoke.

Just then his cellphone rang shrilly from his bedroom. Glancing at me quickly, Lance went to retrieve it. He returned two seconds later with it in his hand.

"It's Dr. Kessler," he informed me before opening the flap.

"Dr. Kessler. Thank you for returning my call…yes, I understand the current situation, but any breakthrough will be vital to the overall outcome of this situation…You have? Really...of course, I should've guessed…extremely difficult to detect no doubt by normal means. That makes perfect sense. Thank you Dr. Kessler, I really appreciate this. Goodbye."

And with that, Lance hung up the phone.

"What did Dr. Kessler find?" I inquired as calmly as possible.

"It was heart failure all right. But it was induced by a chemically enhanced artificial peptide that binds to neuroreceptors in the brain." Lance explained quickly, coming to sit down beside me again.

"What does that mean? Is it a synthetic compound?"

"Exactly. And because it binds to neuroreceptors, it can't be traced in the blood stream."

"So I'm guessing that Dr. Kessler found traces of the peptide in either the spinal cord fluid or the ocular fluid?" I ventured a guess.

"Bingo, the ocular fluid. And it was done with a minute pin prick to the back of the hand that would only be detected if the skin was flayed. It first renders the victim unconscious before inducing immediate cardiac arrest. The perpetrator probably only had a few seconds to get out of the room." Lance stated emphatically.

"Cardiac arrest on the spot. I guess that means he didn't suffer too much then?" I asked in a quiet voice.

"It appears that way." Lance replied, matching my tone.

"Well that's something. But now OPIUM's won this round. That's why they killed him. They must've figured out that he didn't tell us anything incriminating."

"That's not entirely accurate. I had one final session with him yesterday afternoon. He gave me a name – Kevin Moran. Works for an accounting firm called Webster-Prewitt." Lance offered with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"I know the company. But that's odd, his name's strangely familiar. I'm sure he's a Charter accountant that does the financial books for DEMON's division. Why would Reuben Marshall give us the name of an accountant in DEMON's employ?" I asked wonderingly.

**I hope that was enough of a cliffhanger for all of you. I enjoyed working on this chapter thoroughly. For any Boston natives out there, I hope I didn't offend you too much with my lack of knowledge about geography. I lived in Boston eons ago in Watertown. But other than that, my sense of direction pretty much sucks : ) I wikipedia'd the information I got on West Roxbury and Bellavue Hill. Hope you liked the little toxicology blurb, I owe it all to Robert Ludlum (bless his soul). Please let me know what you thought about the chapter and any possible criticisms. Cheerio!**


	8. Accountant For Hire

**Shoo, I swear the only time I love technology is when I'm working on a story : ) It's going to be uber hard to write the next chapter after these last few that just came to me in a flash. I hope this chapter makes sense and that the details lend to the overall story. I'm really glad that I persisted with this story; I thought I might give up on it and work on it at a later stage. With the next story I work on, I'm definitely switching back to a third perspective viewpoint. I'd forgotten just how hard it is to write from one person's perspective. I hope in this instance it doesn't limit the overall story-telling. You'll be a better judge of that. Now back to Landon or Lonce (what is their couple name?) fluff and action!**

"Wait, let's back up a moment. You're sure this Kevin Moran is a chartered accountant who also works for DEMON?" Lance asked me in a quizzical tone.

Though I'd uttered the statement just seconds before, I myself was having trouble believing it. That could only mean the unthinkable: DEMON had somehow been infiltrated. And not just by some anonymous outsider, but by a man firmly in OPIUM's pockets.

"Positive. I've even seen him on a few occasions, going over the financial books for DEMON at the end of the month. He even has his own cubicle in the main office area; doing his work for everyone to see." I answered with a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Both Lance and I were pacing the living room absent-mindedly as we tried to make sense of the name Reuben Marshall had given right before his untimely death. Suddenly, Lance stopped dead in his tracks as if he'd been hit by a bus.

"Do you think there's any chance that Kevin Moran may have done the financial books for other companies besides DEMON and Webster-Prewitt? Say for instance, Tipton Enterprises?" he asked cautiously.

I spun around on the balls of my feet and stared at him as the idea sunk in.

"It's possible, but that means that he was spying on my father too. But why would OPIUM send in a small fry to do it?" I questioned in bewilderment.

"Maybe there's more to it than just him being a regular accountant. Your father pulled out of his agreement with OPTIMUM on the eve of its commencement. Maybe Savoy sent this guy in to snoop around, find some dirt on your father and gain some kind of leverage." Lance stated haphazardly.

"But what kind of dirt could they have on my father that would be worse than full disclosure?" I demanded anxiously.

"Let's find out," Lance suggested.

And with that he went into his bedroom and retrieved his laptop. After plugging it into a power socket and connecting to the internet, he finally placed the laptop on the coffee table and opened up Tipton Enterprise's official website. It took a few seconds to locate the list of employees working at Tipton Enterprises. Sure enough, Kevin Moran's name was listed among the other chartered accountants in my father's employ. With a few more clicks of his fingertips, Lance had opened two more windows on his computer screen, one of them on my instruction. One was a classified FBI criminal database and the second was the official website for OPTIMUM Pharmaceuticals.

"What are you looking for in the FBI database?" I asked curiously.

"I want to see if Kevin Moran has a record." Lance responded quickly while tapping Moran's name into the search icon.

"Bingo!" Lance exclaimed a minute later after the database had retrieved a file on Kevin Moran. The information proved that Kevin Moran had (if not currently) an association with OPIUM for several years, having also done some freelance accounting work for the OPTIMUM as well.

"Take a look at this: Kevin Moran was initially arrested by the FBI for insider-trading and money laundering. He thinks of himself as some kind of financial consultant to powerful men. Apparently, he has quite the knack for giving rich businessmen hot tips on seemingly lucrative investments." Lance pointed out with a finger across the screen.

"What do you mean by 'seemingly lucrative investments'? Are they dud companies which Moran gets rich businessmen to invest in?" I enquired quickly while glancing at the information over his shoulder.

"No, they're not dud companies with little or no investment at all. Based on the information gathered by the FBI, they appear to be dummy companies, established by OPIUM I think. It looks like Moran's the man they use to lure rich businessmen into their operations. It usually occurs when OPIUM is looking to buy out a huge corporation." Lance replied matter-of-factly.

"The Chrysler Building. I bet you anything that OPIUM used Moran to try and blackmail Theodore Bosworth to gain control over the Bank of America. But Bosworth must not have backed down, that's why they bombed the building." I stated confidently.

"And that's probably the reason why they've taken the Tipton hostage too. Savoy's probably trying to force your father's hand into reaching an agreement. Whatever the delay is, I think it's because your father hasn't caved in yet." Lance agreed vehemently.

I felt a lump rising in my throat. What Lance was saying made sense. The fact that my father had tried to back out of his agreement with OPTIMUM meant that he hadn't wanted any of this to begin with.

"Well I hope he doesn't cave in until we find a way to rescue him and the other hostages." I murmured more to myself.

I continued looking over the list of companies affiliated with Tipton Enterprises while Lance leaned against the back of the sofa, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"But the question is, what dirt could Kevin Moran possibly have on your father based on his current business endeavours?" Lance asked wonderingly.

"I think I found the answer to that. Look at this headline on !Yahoo concerning this institution called Panacea. They're a medical facility dealing primarily in experimental drugs." I answered pointedly.

We both glanced over the article, which stated that the institution had become insolvent just a few days ago. Insolvency had been due to some controversy involving the purchase of certain medication by members of the public which proved defective.

"I'll try and hack into Panacea's main frame and see who it's main financial backers were before its insolvency," Lance suggested rapidly.

After a few more torturous minutes, Lance finally managed to hack into their private files. Close scrutiny showed that Wilfred Tipton was the main and seemingly only visible financial backer to the Panacea Institution.

"Lance, you were right. This must be the reason why Savoy is blackmailing Daddy. I bet you we'll also find our mystery synthetic peptide listed under one of Panacea's testing facilities." I stated cryptically.

After several more clicks of the mouse, Lance found the proof for that too. Panacea made the drug which killed Reuben Marshall. Panacea was also the institution which was going to ruin my father's reputation. Both Lance and I leant back against the sofa once more in thoughtful comprehension.

"So what do we do now? Take this to our superiors?" I queried curiously.

"No ways. We can't do anything until we obtain solid proof. I think we need to find this Kevin Moran and get the evidence we need. Once we have that, we can proceed from there." Lance answered firmly.

As much as I loathed the idea of the two of us having to do all the dirty work, I knew that Lance was right. I didn't know about Lynette or Salvador, but there was no way that Omar or Eleanor would take our words for it without any evidence. I just hoped that Kevin Moran would be willing to part with the valuable information that we required. Otherwise, I had no trouble persuading myself to bring out the numb chucks…

It was Thursday afternoon, a good 24 hours after Lance and I had made some startling discoveries concerning OPIUM's implicit involvement in Tipton Enterprises. We were currently sitting in a parked car across the street from the building of Webster-Prewitt in downtown Boston. Lance chose not to bring his own car to the stake-out; he decided to rent a car for the day in case anyone was following us or recognized his car, especially any OPIUM operatives in the area.

Lance and I had managed to find an address for one Kevin Josiah Moran and we had already taken the liberty of following him to work. He appeared to have already gone on his lunch break which he had taken around 13:30. And now the two of us were waiting for him to return to his office. Lance had made an appointment with Moran on the pretense on gaining a 'hot tip' on an investment banking firm. Lance also alluded to a referral from a man named Isaac Miller, who according to the FBI's investigations was a known affiliate of Moran's. Lance thought it would be better if he set up the meeting as opposed to me, whom Moran might recognize. According to the FBI database we'd hacked into, Moran's usual custom was to hold these meetings as far away from his office at Webster-Prewitt as possible to avoid detection.

Lance scrutinized the street for Moran's return. Then he nudged me quickly and pointed towards the main entrance of Webster-Prewitt. I grabbed Lance's binoculars and trained them on the spot he was pointing to. Sure enough, it was Kevin Moran strolling towards his place of work. He was roughly 26 years of age, 5 foot in height, skinny, pasty skin and short black hair gelled into neat spikes. From this distance I noticed that he was well-dressed, wearing a distinguished dark-grey suit, a royal blue tie and spectacles. He seemed harmless; the type of guy that brainy book-worm women fell hard for. But underneath that attire, I sensed an astute and cunning character. He was not a man to be underestimated under any circumstances.

"That's definitely him. You should call him before he gets inside," I instructed carefully.

Lance nodded and took out his cellphone and dialed Kevin Moran's number. We saw Kevin Moran fumbling for his cellphone in his jacket pocket about 2 seconds later. Then he picked up his phone and put on what seemed like his game face before answering.

"Hello?" he asked cordially with the slightest hint of a smirk.

"Kevin Moran? This is Lenny Shultz speaking. We spoke on the phone earlier," Lance began, speaking in a slight New Jersey drawl which made me want to giggle.

"Lenny Shultz, of course. I made a few calls. Are you still interested in those shares in Allan Gray?" Kevin Moran asked quickly.

"Yes I am. I already spoke to my client and he gave me the thumbs up for the two of us to discuss it further." Lance replied reassuringly.

"Excellent. Where should we meet?" Kevin asked curiously.

"You know that Starbucks about 4 blocks from your office? There's a warehouse just behind it. Meet me in the room on the 1st level marked 'Storage'." Lance responded matter-of-factly.

"I'll meet you there in 5 minutes." Kevin replied smoothly.

With that Lance hung up his cellphone. Then he glanced at me and grinned mischievously.

"Let's go have some fun," he suggested in a cocky tone.

We followed Kevin Moran in the car and parked it a few feet away from the Starbucks. Lance advised me to follow a few metres behind him to allow him time to meet Moran first before we questioned him together. First we watched as Kevin Moran snuck swiftly into the storage room. Then I gave Lance a 2-minute head start before following him into the storage facility. I entered the room just as Lance finished smooth-talking Kevin Moran and had pinned him up against the wall, Lance's elbow coming up to cover Moran's throat in a vice-like grip.

"Hey man, what the hell are you doing? What is this?" Kevin demanded in a wheezy voice while he struggled for air.

When I entered the room, something seemed to click inside of him based on the way his body stiffened up without any help from Lance's elbow around his throat.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Kevin muttered audibly when both Lance and I flashed our badges at him.

"Hiya Kevin. We just wanted to ask you a few questions concerning your involvement with the crime syndicate known as OPIUM," Lance began cordially, not releasing his grip on Kevin.

"You shouldn't be here. Do you know that a lot of people are looking for you?" Kevin asked, directing his question to me and ignoring Lance's statement.

"Who's looking for me Kevin? Some of your OPIUM friends?" I pressed pointedly.

"I'm not saying a word. You've got nothing on me." Kevin returned flippantly.

"Oh Kevin, you'd be surprised just how much we do know about your extra-curricular activities. Does the name Panacea mean anything to you?" Lance demanded in a menacing tone.

"Not really, I've never heard of it." Kevin squeaked rapidly.

"Really? That's not what we heard Kevin. Here's what I think: you give rich businessmen supposedly hot tips on seemingly lucrative investments which are actually dummy companies created by OPIUM to lure corporations into their clutches." I stated casually, coming to stand in front of him.

"You could've checked that easily against my criminal record. Besides, that's ancient history. I don't do that anymore, I'm totally legit now." Kevin responded vehemently.

"Bullshit. You gave Wilfred Tipton a hot tip on the Panacea Institution and he invested. But OPIUM made sure that the institution became insolvent on account of its false advertisement concerning the success rate of its medication. And that's when OPIUM sends you in, to start the blackmail." Lance stated harshly, increasing the pressure on Kevin's neck.

"You can't prove a thing. So why don't you just let me go and maybe I might forget about pressing charges against you for assault." Kevin hissed sharply.

"He's right Lance, we don't have anything on him. I guess we'll just have to arrest him on his hot tip concerning Allan Gray," I trailed off hopefully.

"What? What are you talking about?" Kevin demanded in a high-pitched squeak.

"You're absolutely right London. Offering an illegal tip to a special agent concerning shares that have already been claimed by another employer of Allan Gray. That's insider trading right there. And then there's Panacea of course. All we have to do is tell the FBI that you've been giving hot tips on a medical facility that's not serving the public interest's needs. When the FBI hears about this, you're looking at roughly 5-10 years imprisonment. So sorry for man-handling you bro, we'll just be on our merry way. You can expect a visit from the Bureau in about 24 hours. You take care." Lance greeted with a friendly smile.

Just as the both of turned to leave, Kevin called out to us.

"Wait, wait! What do you want from me?" he asked in a pathetic voice, all traces of the suave businessman gone.

"Give us some answers and maybe we'll cut you a deal. Tell us why you've been blackmailing my father." I thundered.

"I had to, it was the bosses' orders. He wanted his hands on the Tipton and Mr. Tipton wouldn't give it to him. Apparently, Tipton checked up on my credentials and found a few discrepancies. He called me into his office and confronted me; he knew everything about my involvement with OPIUM. I went to see the boss right after and he told me to start the blackmail. I went back to Tipton's office and I threatened him with exposure concerning his involvement in the Panacea Project as well as the Shangri-La Hotel scandal 2 years ago." Kevin responded haphazardly.

"The Shangri-La Hotel? But that was a misunderstanding. The FBI didn't find anything." I retorted impatiently.

"The FBI didn't find anything because Daddy covered his tracks well. Tipton never got the loan he required from the Bank of America to buy out the owner of the Shangri-La. Your Daddy got the help of a loan shark to cover the deficit." Kevin sneered.

Lance glanced at me briefly and decided to pursue this particular line of questioning.

"Okay, so Wilfred Tipton got money from a loan shark? That's not exactly front page news. There are tons of businessmen who seek financial help from _other sectors_." Lance stated casually.

"There's more to it than that. Tipton was aware that the owner of the Shangri-La was running a money-laundering racket out of his own hotel. Daddy made a deal with the owner to buy him out for half of the purchase price if he kept the entire money laundering ring quiet. But Tipton got cold feet and pulled out of the agreement. But not quick enough before the FBI started investigating." Kevin replied cryptically.

"You keep referring to the boss. Is the boss Laurent Savoy?" Lance pressed urgently.

"The very same. Of course, he's the new kid on the block these days. I did a couple of jobs for Alexei Novak right before your guys picked him up." Kevin answered matter-of-factly.

"And when exactly did my father confront you when he got wind of the Panacea Project?" I demanded hurriedly.

"Let's see, today's Thursday. That means it was about Tuesday when he called me into his office. And that's when the hostage situation commenced at the Tipton." Kevin noted frankly.

That got me thinking. Two days ago, Daddy wouldn't hear of anything concerning his agreement with OPTIMUM when I confronted him. But maybe something I said triggered something in him that everything wasn't as above board as it seemed. Maybe he saw the news headline concerning Panacea's insolvency and he did some digging. He comes across Kevin Moran's file and sees some discrepancies. He confronts Moran and decides then and there to pull out of the Tipton agreement with OPTIMUM. But before he can, Laurent Savoy pays him a visit and OPIUM thugs drag him back to the Tipton and take the entire building and its occupants hostage. This means that Daddy believed me and he was trying to do the right thing before he became a hostage. This epiphany brought a lump to my throat and made me even angrier at Kevin Moran and the rest of OPIUM.

"So you admit that you gave my father the hot tip on Panacea in the first place?" I demanded heatedly.

"Yeah, yeah, I gave it to him all right." Kevin muttered emphatically.

"So what now Kevin? You gonna head over to the Tipton and report back to the boss?" Lance asked maliciously.

Kevin stared at the two of us like we'd missed something important.

"Are you crazy? I can't just waltz up to the Tipton with cops all around and ring the bell! As far as the cops know, Laurent Savoy is just another victim of the hostage situation along with Wilfred Tipton and everyone else." Kevin spat sardonically.

"You mean the cops don't know that Laurent Savoy's in charge of this coup?" I demanded in disbelief.

"Either they're really slow or they haven't connected the dots that Laurent Savoy is also the head of OPIUM." Kevin acquiesced.

"That latter seems more likely." Lance agreed solemnly.

"Am I free to go?" Kevin demanded impatiently.

"Not yet. What is Laurent Savoy planning to do with the hostage situation?" Lance questioned urgently.

"Whatever he does all depends on Tipton. If Tipton refuses to do business with OPIUM, the hotel will probably be blown to smithereens. But if Tipton decides to play ball, my guess is that the Boss will try to spin the situation in a good light with the media. I hear he's working on spreading a rumour that OPIUM took the Tipton Hotel hostage because of Panacea's illegal experimentation and a grudge against Wilfred Tipton. My guess is that the Boss will strike some sort of deal to make it look like OPTIMUM has pacified OPIUM by getting them to hand the Tipton over to them. That way, he gets the hotel and drags Tipton's name through the mud at the same time." Kevin responded ominously.

"Alright Kevin, you've told us a lot more than we expected. We'll make a deal with you. No jail time if you agree to make a statement against Savoy and the entire syndicate. You're free to go." Lance instructed carefully.

"Just like that? And how do you two know I won't find some other way to communicate with the Boss and tell him that I talked?" Kevin asked smoothly.

"We don't. But if you do open your big mouth, know this Kevin: when we find a way into the Tipton and arrest the Boss and the asses of every last OPIUM thug in that building, we're coming after your ass too." I answered in a low voice wrought with hostility and menace.

That seemed to do the trick because Kevin's sneering smile vanished off his face.

"Fair enough," he conceded.

"We'll be in touch." Lance said with finesse and a grin on his face.

Lance turned back towards me as Kevin exited the building.

"Did you get that?" he asked conspiratorially, glancing over at the bulge in my pocket.

I deftly retrieved a miniscule tape recorder from my pocket and held it in my palm.

"Every word." I responded gleefully.

After the meeting with Kevin Moran, Lance drove the rental back to the shop and retrieved his own car. Then we drove back to Bellevue Hill and we began working on a plan to get into the Tipton. I managed to procure a blueprint of the hotel's entire layout from City Hall, detailing areas such as the garbage disposal unit all the way to the rooftop. After that, the two of us spent the rest of the afternoon back at Lance's house poring over the blueprint. We stopped for a break around 9pm when Lance decided to make a late dinner. We dined on a meal of Pasta Alfredo and Pepsi washed down with Haagen Dasz. Like a true gentleman, Lance offered to let me shower first after we had washed and dried the dishes in the kitchen. After I was done, I went straight to Lance's room to change into some sleep wear while he showered. Tonight I abandoned Lance's Celtics tracksuit ensemble for something more up my alley. When I went shopping yesterday, I bought myself a new emerald-green nightdress (which wasn't revealing enough to be considered lingerie) that went down to my knees. I decided to wear it because the infamous Boston humidity had caught up with Bellevue Hill too, making the night air sultry and sticky. I opened up the patio doors leading out towards the tiny balcony. And I stood out there for a while, just admiring the stars enveloped in an indigo haze. I'm not sure how long I stood out there, just soaking up my surroundings before I heard padded footsteps behind me.

"Beautiful night isn't it?"

I turned around to face Lance, who was standing a few feet away from me in the living room and folding his arms. He too was dressed for bed, but equally dressed down for the occasion like myself. He was wearing nothing but a black sweat pants which covered his lower body. His hair was still wet from his shower and it glistened against the rest of his tanned and chiseled frame. I took in his appearance for a few seconds before I answered his question.

"It sure is. I could stand out here forever," I murmured more to myself.

Yet, with a knowing chuckle, I quietly moved back inside and shut the glass doors with a gentle push.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Living this high up in the hills on a night like this, it makes you forget everything. It's like I don't have to think of anything or anyone else. I don't have to be a secret agent, I don't have to be a lifeguard. Up here, it's just me." Lance admitted as I came to stand in front of him.

"I wish it were that simple for me. The outside world is all I can think about. Not knowing if the people that I love are safe scares me. Not knowing what will happen tomorrow scares me too." I replied sincerely while placing an unwanted strand of my hair behind my ear.

"It scares me too. But I promise you this: whatever happens tomorrow, we'll do it together. I will always be here for you." Lance reassured me with such intensity that took my breath away.

"I know that and I'm grateful. But I hate to think it'll just be the two of us fighting alone tomorrow against everyone, even our allies." I confessed despondently.

"Maybe it won't just be us two. Our superiors may not listen to us, but there may be others in our ranks willing to listen to us. Know anyone?" Lance enquired curiously.

"Well there's my friend Alec, we've been through a hell of a lot together. He's always had my back. And there's also Jade and Mark, we've done a lot of missions together in the past. If we need some back-up, they might just be able to help." I replied frankly.

"I was hoping you'd say that. From my side, I've also got four agents who may be able to help us: Chris, Sean, Vince and Greg. We've done a lot of missions together in the past, like kidnapping Reuben Marshall from DEMON. Greg's the one who slammed your face into the ground and cuffed you at the Tipton." Lance reminded with a wry smile.

"Ah, good times. It seems like a lifetime ago. I took so much for granted then." I declared morosely.

"So did I, I've wasted so much time. But no more; whatever happens tomorrow, I'm going out swinging." Lance assured me with a grimace.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you that fighting's not the answer?" I teased lightly, which made him smile.

"I used to believe that a long time ago. But I've learnt recently that the only way to survive is to fight, especially when the things you love are at stake. I always used to be a 'by-the-book' kind of guy. But I've broken all the rules now, ever since you came into my life. The rules don't mean a whole lot to me if I can't be with you the way I really want to. The only question is whether I've already missed my chance." Lance responded slowly.

The air that was trapped in my throat felt like it was racing down through my chest into my stomach, where it gathered into a packet of panic and desperation. Lance was gazing intently at me in a way which made my legs go numb from my knees down to my toes. I could feel a knot forming in my stomach, twisting my nerves and senses mercilessly. I could hardly believe what he was saying to me, and yet my heart was thumping violently in my chest with each syllable. I knew right then and there that I was at a cross-road. This much was clear: I had two choices in front of me. Would I tell the truth or would I tell lies? Lies, lies, lies, I told myself stubbornly. My whole life seemed to be a string of lies tangled together in their innate confusion and haphazard paranoia when someone like myself desperately doesn't want to face the truth. Brandy had died keeping my secrets. Whether I was smart or a secret agent, it was all in my head. But what was in my heart? Would I let more people die to keep my secrets safe? But this was different from the secrets; those secrets hid the truth. But this lie that I had told myself every day was to stop from going crazy, to avoid the one thing that I knew would pulverize my fragile heart. Could I avoid it any longer? Did I want to avoid it?

I already had my answer when my numb legs guided me forward towards Lance. And then I leant in closely to his ear.

"No you haven't," I whispered frantically.

No more lies, I told myself, right before I grabbed Lance's head forcefully in my hands and steered it towards my lips. I don't know what was guiding me, whether it was love or desire. But a surge of emotion shuddered through me as I placed my hands on Lance's muscular chest and traced every inch of skin, scar and bone with my fingertips. And right then and there, I didn't care anymore. The people I loved were still trapped and in danger. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. But Lance was still here, safe and breathing. He was tangible. And I realized that I needed him. I needed him to control me.

And that's exactly what he did as his lips became more persistent against mine. I opened my mouth and let his tongue graze swiftly and gently against my lips as he kissed me with unrepressed tension. His strong arms enveloped my body, his hands doing what mine what were doing, exploring every contour of my skin, grabbing fistfuls of my night dress and tugging on it impatiently. I could feel the knot in my stomach loosening as Lance continued kissing my upper and lower lips one by one in a rhythmic pattern. I heard my name come out from his muffled mouth in a moan as I rubbed my hands roughly against his chest. The sound made my breath quicken as I transferred my hands to his head and ran them almost painstakingly through his wet curls. Just as we both stopped to take a breath, Lance moved his hands and grasped wildly at my hair.

"What do you want?" he asked in a raspy tone, his hands still in my hair, our foreheads touching as he gasped against my mouth.

While I willed my heart rate to calm itself, I did some thinking. Lance was giving me a choice here, leaving it entirely in my hands. And no one knew better than I about the effort it took to think rationally in situations like these. And now I had to think about what I wanted. What did I want? Based on the last few minutes, try the last few weeks, I would've thought it'd be obvious. All I wanted was to melt into his arms and just given in, but not tonight. The Tipton and its inhabitants were weighing on my mind. And I was so tired, my body feeling distinctly run down from stress, worry and inadequate sleep. Whatever the cross-road was before me, it would have to wait. Reality was just a few hours away.

"I really want to sleep." I confessed with a jerky laugh as comprehension sunk in once more.

"Okay." Lance replied softly.

My grip on his hand didn't loosen even as he turned to go towards his make-shift bed.

"Will you stay with me tonight and just hold me?" I asked him in a whisper.

"Sure." Lance agreed with a ready smile.

He let me lead him by the hand into his own bedroom as we both crawled under the duvet. I leaned my back gently against his chest. I smirked to myself when I felt his arms steel around my back and wrap themselves tightly around my waist. Lying in his arms somehow felt right, the best I'd felt in the longest time. I felt strands of Lance's curls tickling the side of my cheek while I listened intently to his heart beating against his chest. The pace was a dull rhythmic undertone, throbbing in time to the breath coming out of my nose.

"Goodnight Lance," I murmured quietly, my eyelids drooping slightly as I placed my hands on those draped across my waist.

"Goodnight London," Lance murmured back, his breathing becoming restful by the second.

Within minutes, we were both asleep.

_That night I dreamt about the Chrysler Building again. __The furls of smoke were still protruding out of the debris in wisps of cloud. My mother wasn't there this time, but I wasn't surprised to see Brandy standing in front of me. _

"_Brandy, I'm so confused. I don't know what to do." I murmured helplessly while she stood before me with a placid smile on her face. _

"_Don't worry sweetheart, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," she chided while caressing my cheek gently. _

"_Brandy, I'm scared. I don't want anyone to die this time."_

"_Everything will be okay London. You know what you have to do."_

"_But I don't! I don't have a clue what to do!" _

"_Yes you do. No matter what anyone says, you're not an idiot. The answer's right in front of you." Brandy urged impatiently. _

"_But Brandy, I have no idea how to get into the Tipton. OPIUM's stolen it from me." I responded morosely. _

"_London, no one can steal what's rightfully yours." Brandy replied firmly, placing both her hands on my shoulders this time._

"_But I don't know how to get in."_

"_Yes you do! The Tipton's your home. No one knows a home better than the owner. There's no corner or passageway that's hidden from you." _

"_But Brandy-"_

"_Listen to what I'm saying London! Remember, it is impossible to win the race unless you venture to run. It is impossible to win the victory unless you dare to battle. How do you get into the Tipton? Simple: use the back door." _

_And with a wink, Brandy kissed me gently on the cheek and walked back towards the swirls of cloud and smoke. _

That's when I woke up. Without thinking, I shook Lance awake, who was snoring by now. When I finally roused him, he opened his eyes and murmured something that sounded like 'mermaids' before he looked at me.

"Lance, wake up! I've just had an epiphany!" I squealed in excitement as I sat up.

"London, what is it? It's 4 in the morning," Lance groaned while scratching his head.

"I've figured out how to get into the Tipton undetected." I announced proudly.

That got Lance's attention as he sat up in bed to face me.

"And how are we going to do that?" he asked seriously.

"Simple: we're going to break in." I declared with a sly grin on my face.

**May I just say that after fantasising about writing down the kiss scene between London and Lance for months on end, it was harder than I initially anticipated. I really do appreciate how hard it is to write down the perfect kiss. And I wanted this one to be good, but honest too. I tried not to make it too Mills & Boon or soft-porn like. But seriously, please let me know what you thought of the kiss scene and whether I nailed it or not. But I would also appreciate a critique on the overall chapter too. Next chapter will definitely have more of our favourite TSL characters, I promise. Sigh, the next chapter's going to be a bitch : )**


	9. Breaking & Entering

**Hi everyone, what's cracka-lacking? Sorry it took longer to release this chapter, but I do have some good news. For the first time ever, I've worked on two sister chapters simultaneously and am placing them both on Fanfiction one after the other for your reading pleasure (drum roll please). It won't be easy to do again since I'm starting university on Monday (sniff). Like I said previously, chapters 9 and 10 are meant to be read together, the latter continuing on from the former. I thought it would mean less words if I split them up. This chapter promises more characters, action and a lot of laughs. Hope you like!**

**"_It is impossible to win the race unless you venture to run. It is impossible to win the victory unless you dare to battle." _**

**Richard M. De Vos**

"So this is your brilliant plan. You're going to break into your own hotel?" Lance scoffed.

It was just around 6am on Friday morning. The sky was already breaking into pastel shades of a pink and orange dawn. Lance and I had been up for the past 2 hours at the coffee table, poring over the blue-print of the Tipton. I was still having trouble convincing Lance that this was a good plan.

"Well we can't just waltz up to the main entrance and walk through the revolving doors now can we?" I retorted impatiently.

"I know we can't. But this plan of yours is just plain nuts." Lance stated earnestly.

"True, but it's the only plan we've got. The ventilation system is our best bet." I pointed out while tapping the designated area on the blue print with a pencil.

"And how do we access it?" Lance demanded dubiously.

"Through the kitchen. We'll have to drill a hole through the floor." I answered quickly.

"Even if we could get into the kitchen undetected, we don't have the equipment to drill a hole." Lance responded tersely.

"That's why I phoned a friend. Alec's on his way up here as we speak with the tools we need. Did you mean what you said last night about their being people in your ranks you could trust? People who can help us?" I asked urgently.

"Of course." Lance replied sincerely.

"Good, then get them on the phone. We're gonna need all the help we can get." I instructed tersely while drawing a red circle on the blue-print with a marker.

By 07:30, Alec had arrived along with Jade and Mark in tow. On Lance's side, he had invited Chris, Sean, Vince and Greg. After coffee had been served and the Dunkin Donuts had been passed around, we got down to business.

"Did you get the drills I need?" I asked of Alec.

"Yip. They're standard size, 25cm. Just one question: how are you getting into the kitchen?" Alec asked curiously.

"Through a man-hole directly behind the Tipton, that leads straight to the sewer." I answered swiftly.

This statement was met with snorts and titters from everyone present in the living room.

"What?" I demanded impatiently, folding my arms.

"London Tipton is going to break into her own hotel via the sewage system? What's wrong with this picture?" Mark asked facetiously of the group at large.

"If there were any other way to do this, I would gladly take it. But there isn't. That's why I asked you to bring along two standard-sized gas masks for Lance and I." I told Mark seriously.

"You didn't say anything about both of us going into the sewer." Lance interjected exasperatedly, clearly not liking this part of the plan.

"What happened to 'we're in this together'?" I questioned with a laugh.

"That was before I knew we were paddling up Shit Creek." Lance quipped teasingly.

"Funny. Maybe while we're down there, I can finally introduce you to the Ninja Turtles." I returned triumphantly.

"Alright you two, back to the plan at hand. What are you going to do about the Tipton's emergency lock-down system?" Chris asked seriously.

"Once we're in the ventilation system, we're going to drop into Moseby's office. That's where he keeps the mechanism for the lock-down codes. Lance is going to temporarily disable and re-route it to a remote control that I'll keep on my person." I answered quickly.

"Alright, so you disable the emergency lock-down, then what?" Vince enquired while chomping on a donut.

"The next priority is to get all the guests out of the Tipton as well as the employees. We can't make a move on Savoy until we take them out of the equation. That way he loses his bargaining leverage." Lance stated knowingly.

"And while you're undertaking these daring feats, we're just supposed to sit back and twiddle our thumbs?" Jade snapped.

"Of course not. Lance has to get to the rooftop and send up a flare. That'll be the signal for DEMON and HALO to enter through the lobby." I said calmly.

"And we'll also have radio communication. That's why I asked you to bring walkie-talkie's for all of us Greg. That way, we can stay in touch and update each other consistently on our status." Lance added.

"Any questions?" I asked sweetly with a beaming smile.

"Just one: when does this suicide mission start?" Sean asked dryly.

"In about 3 hours." I answered solemnly, which was met with silence all round.

After some light conversation, our group dispersed, leaving Lance and I to finalise some last-minute plans for the mission. While Lance double-checked the necessary equipment and tools, I added the finishing touches to a series of documents that I had composed. Every now and then, Lance glanced over my shoulder and nodded approvingly. Once I was finished, I made photocopies of the documents and placed them into three separate envelopes. With those in hand, Lance and I dressed ourselves in appropriate mission attire: namely black nylon ski suits that zipped up to the neck and black streamlined sneakers. Then we drove into town to where I paid a visit to an old family friend of my father's, Arthur Trent and left a few things of value with him. Then Lance and I drove towards the Tipton, avoiding the brunch traffic and police cars and parked behind my father's arch nemesis, the St Mark Hotel. Then we back-tracked towards the back of the Tipton where Alec was waiting for us, dressed like a construction worker complete with a hard hat.

"I've already popped the lid on this man-hole for you. All you have to do is climb down this shaft and head towards the central plumbing system. There'll be a lot of rushing water surrounding you which should drown out the noise of the drills. If I were you, I'd put the masks on now, it's pretty ripe down there." Alec advised with a grimace.

"Thanks Alec, I really appreciate everything you've done." I thanked graciously.

"You're welcome. Just come out of this alive so you can return the favour." Alec responded in a gruff voice, which I took to be his way of being mushy without getting too emotional.

"I will."

"You too Lance." Alec added.

"Right back at ya Alec." Lance answered simply with a wry smile.

"Okay. Good luck you two, and God-speed." With that, Alec opened up the man-hole.

It was now 11:05am, it was time.

Lance and I pulled our water-proof back-packs around our shoulders and placed our masks over our faces. And then we started climbing down. Once Alec closed the man-hole above our heads, we knew we were in the sewer. I glanced around me and instantly regretted my decision.

"Oh shit," I murmured through the microphone installed into my gas mask.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Lance agreed ruefully while switching his flash light on.

Then we began walking through the ankle-deep water towards our quarry.

It took another 10 minutes to navigate the sewer. Then we finally came across the Tipton's central plumbing system. Above our heads was an iron grid which worked as the kitchen's draining outlet. This was our destination. Once we were in, all we had to walk through and enter the deep freezer room on the left. From there, we'd be able to access the hotel's ventilation system virtually undetected. But first we needed to drill through the iron grid above the garbage disposal unit.

"Alright, let's do this," Lance murmured while retrieving the drill from his back-pocket.

I took my drill out and we began drilling. Save for the rushing water trickling all around us, the silence was virtually impenetrable. Each time the drill made contact with the metal above my head, I tensed up. Despite Alec's assurances about the level of noise, I kept thinking that at any moment, someone might hear us. But knowing that Friday brunch was one of the busiest times on the weekend at the Tipton restaurant, it was unlikely that any kitchen employee would stop in their duties long enough to overhear what Lance and I were doing. It took another arduous 15 minutes before the iron grate was completely free of its screws. The time was now 11:30.

"Maybe we should wait a few minutes before we climb up, in case someone sees us." Lance whispered urgently.

"No, it's okay. With any luck, Moseby's holding his usual staff meeting in the lobby to brief the hotel employees on the arrangements for check-in and the procedure for serving meals. If I'm right, there's no one in the kitchen right now." I observed stoically.

I frowned at Lance's resolute posture.

"Fine, I'll go first." I stated sourly.

Then I lifted the grid off its place and braced myself. Not a sound was heard overhead. The kitchen was completely empty.

"The coast is clear." I whispered back to Lance.

With that assurance, Lance followed me onto the kitchen floor and replaced the grid once more. Using the cover of shelves and racks, we made our way through the deep freezer and shut the door behind us. Then we made our way to the back of the room where the air was coldest. Lance retrieved a step-ladder and placed it against the wall. Like a true gentleman, he let me climb up first. Making use of the drill, I managed to dislodge the nails on the air vent grid after a tense minute. Then I climbed in through the air vent. Lance in the meantime had put the ladder back where he found it. Then by making use of the uneven grooves in the wall, he managed to climb ¾ of the way towards me. Then I pulled him through for the rest of the way. Now we were both in the ventilation system.

"Alright, we're in. Where to next?" Lance enquired politely.

"My suite." I answered cheerily.

Lance's face fell at this announcement.

"Are you nuts London? OPIUM's probably has some of their operatives positioned in your suite in case you decide to show up. You can't go in there!" he hissed furiously.

"I'm not going to Lance. We're heading in that general direction because I need to access my secret room." I explained calmly.

"_You_ have a secret room?" Lance asked quizzically with a raised eyebrow.

"I got the idea from Brandy. I had it built during one week when Moseby got the flu about 6 months ago. It's located just behind my bedroom wall. From the outside, it looks like a storage closet." I stated smoothly.

"Nice. So what do you need from the 'secret room' anyway?" Lance questioned curiously.

"Supplies," was all I said before we continued crawling upwards towards the 23rd floor.

10 minutes later, we reached the 'storage room'. Lance popped the air vent lid this time and jumped down first. I followed suit while he gaped unabashedly at the space in front of him. The room was about as spacious as a broom closet, but I'm guessing that Lance was gaping more at the stuff in the room. There were a row of shelves lining the walls containing important files and documents that I needed for work, guns and other weapons of every size imaginable hanging on the walls, a closet filled with my favourite spy gear as well as costumes for camouflage and another cabinet containing what looked like the contents of a chemist laboratory.

"Man, I have got to get me one of these," Lance murmured in an awed tone while gazing around the room.

"I know; you could put it in that part of the wall where your aquarium currently is," I joked lightly.

"You can't possibly use all this? Or do you like to play chemist?" Lance demanded lightly while staring at my chemistry collection.

"Occasionally." I remarked pleasantly.

"Take whatever weapons you need. Hand me the taser-guns and the one on your left with the silencer, that one's my favourite. Could you also pass me some test tubes along with some ingredients for a compound of ammonium sulphide?" I asked in a flurry.

"Ammonium Sulphide? What the hell are you cooking up?" Lance queried nervously.

"Something that'll cause a stir." I replied mischievously, causing Lance to slap his forehead at my lame joke.

From there, we made our way towards Room 2305 – the Martins' suite. I hoped to find them there to make sure they were okay. Lance and I positioned ourselves comfortably inside the air vent when we heard murmurs of voices.

"But Mom, I'm bored. Cody and I can only play so many video games. And I can only hear so much of Cody's talk about the Glee Club." Zack complained irritably.

"Hey, what's wrong with Glee Club?" Cody demanded heatedly.

"You did not just ask me that." Zack quipped dryly.

"Zack, we've been over this already. You and Cody can't run amok in the hotel lobby like you did before. Not that it was okay before, but things are decidedly different now." Carey replied cautiously.

"Oh man, armed criminals are really killing my buzz." Zack stated grumpily.

"Guys, I know this stinks. But I can't carry on normally knowing you two are in danger from a trigger-happy thug just because you want to play football in the lobby." Carey remonstrated.

"Carry on normally? Mom, there's nothing normal about this situation." Cody pointed out flippantly.

"I know honey," Carey replied, her voice breaking slightly.

They were interrupted by someone knocking softly on their door. Carey quickly wiped her eyes and straightened herself up before glancing through the peep-hole. Without further hesitation, she opened the door. My heart soared when I saw Maddie enter the room, wearing her candy counter attire.

"Maddie, what are you doing here?" Carey asked curiously.

"I got a 15-minute break. Something about them not wanting me to sell too much candy 'cause it makes people happy." Maddie answered facetiously while doing air quotes with her fingers.

"I thought I'd come and check up on you guys and see if you needed anything," she continued in a kinder tone.

"Do you know how to mediate a hostile coup?" Cody enquired sardonically.

"Oh shoot, I left that skill in my other uniform." Maddie quipped which made me want to laugh.

"We're fine Maddie. But we're always glad to have you around, even more so now." Carey stated sincerely while hugging Maddie.

"Hey, it's not like I have anywhere else to be." Maddie joked while stroking Zack's hair lightly.

Even though they all laughed at Maddie's joke, I could see from their faces just how miserable they really were. Then Zack said something which nearly caused me to fall out of the air vent:

"I wish London was here," he mused wistfully.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Even though she drives me crazy, I miss her too. I hope she's okay." Maddie agreed despondently.

"Maddie!" I hissed, trying to get her attention.

"Oh man, I think I'm going crazy. I miss her so much I can actually hear her voice." Maddie went on in a desperate voice.

"Maddie, you idiot! It's really me!" I hissed a little louder this time.

"Hey, who are you calling an idiot?" Maddie huffed reproachfully.

"London!" The Martins cried out in delight when they finally saw where I was talking from.

"What are you doing in there?" Cody asked quizzically.

"Admiring the view. Would you mind opening up the vent? It's getting kinda claustrophobic for me and Lance." I remonstrated quickly.

"Lance is with you?" Zack asked dumbfounded.

"I sure am." Lance answered with his usual drawl.

"How do you know what 'claustrophobic' means?" Maddie demanded in bewilderment.

When Lance and I finally hopped down, the four of them continued staring quizzically back at us. Finally, Carey broke the silence.

"London, what are you doing here?" she questioned anxiously after hugging me.

"I'm here to rescue you. Actually, make that 'we'." I answered cheerily while pointing to both Lance and I.

"You're here to rescue us?" Zack asked skeptically, glancing at the two of us.

"But I don't understand. How did you even get in?" Maddie demanded impatiently.

"We dug our way in, London drilled a hole through the kitchen." Lance explained casually.

"_You_ used a drill? Boy, am I in the Twilight Zone of all weird occurrences." Maddie drawled uncertainly while referring to me.

"Sweetie, as happy as we are to see you, you shouldn't be here right now. OPIUM's looking for you. If they catch you here-" Carey spluttered when I interrupted her.

"Then I'm not going to run away. If they want me so badly, they can come and get me. But I'm not leaving. I came here for all of you. And Daddy." I replied in a determined voice.

"London, that's so sweet of you. But there are armed guards everywhere. You can't do this alone." Maddie pointed out morosely.

"She won't have to," Lance answered unswervingly while clasping my hand firmly.

No one failed to notice this gesture.

"Are you two-" Zack began before I cut him off.

"What Lance means is that we have operatives outside who are waiting for our signal before they enter the building. But we need your help too. All of you." I stated firmly while glancing at each of them.

"Operatives? London, what's going on?" Cody demanded worriedly.

"I wish I could explain everything to you right now. But there isn't time. I need you all to trust me and to do exactly what I say." I stated anxiously.

"What do you want us to do?" Zack asked calmly.

"I need you and Cody to cause a diversion." I explained softly.

"What kind of diversion?" Carey demanded with a note of parental hysteria.

"Nothing dangerous Carey, I promise. I just need them to alert the guards in the lobby to a problem in the ventilation system." I told her quickly.

"What kind of problem?" Maddie asked suspiciously.

"Cody, do you know how to make a mixture of ammonium sulphide?" I asked rapidly of him.

"Of course I do, I can make it in my sleep…wait, you want me to make a stink bomb?" Cody asked curiously.

"Exactly. And then I want to place it in the ventilation system's central panel so that it'll smoke out the entire hotel." I answered with a devilish grin.

"Sweet!" Zack exclaimed with delight while pumping his fist in the air.

"It'll cause mayhem and panic to start a riot. While the guards are dealing with the problem, it'll create a state of emergency evacuation. It's brilliant." Maddie noted with unrepressed excitement.

"I know, but we need Moseby's help too." Lance pointed out.

"What for?" Cody asked quizzically.

"While Zack and Cody are distracting the guards in the lobby, I need to get into his office to deactivate the emergency lock-down security mechanism. Moseby has the last digits of the code on him." Lance explained quickly.

Maddie looked like she wanted to ask Lance how he knew all this, but seemed to think better of it.

"I'll get him on the phone." Carey responded promptly and walked towards the phone.

After a tearful (on Moseby's part) reunion, I managed to ask him about Daddy.

"Have you seen him lately? Is he okay?" I asked anxiously.

"I've seem him a few times since he became a hostage. He seems fine to me, putting on a brave front at least. I have to still report to him about general Tipton business. He never lets me stay up in the suite for longer than a few minutes, Laurent Savoy I mean. He ventures downstairs from time to time to check on his investment." Moseby answered resentfully.

Lance placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder while I struggled to keep my self-control intact. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm myself. I opened my eyes after a few seconds and addressed Moseby once more.

"Moseby, I need you to go back down to your office. Lance will drop in via the air vent. The lobby needs to be as free from congestion as possible, at least until the ammonium sulphide kicks in. Carey, your next show's about to begin. I need you to head down to the ballroom. You have to herd the guests out of there through the kitchen." I instructed rapidly.

"How will I know when to clear out?" Carey asked curiously.

"Just look for the smoke." I advised with a grin.

"What do you want me to do?" Maddie enquired eagerly.

"Go downstairs and find Esteban. I need the two of you to go to the 8th and 16th floors and set off the fire sprinklers. Take these," I ordered, handing her two blow torches and two guns.

"What are the taser-guns for?" Maddie queried anxiously.

"Just in case," I replied quietly.

"Cody, I need you to go down to Arwin's office and finish the ammonium sulphide mixture. Then meet Zack back up here before you head down to the lobby together." I commanded quickly.

"London, I'm not sure about the ammonium sulphide. I've read that too much ammonia released into a small space is highly toxic to anyone who inhales it." Cody stated worriedly.

"Then decrease the dosage of ammonia. But Cody, it's imperative that there's smoke billowing from every air vent in the hotel. Or at least the appearance of it." I advised strongly.

"Got it," Cody exclaimed.

"Oh, and supervise Arwin," I added hastily as an afterthought, which Cody grinned in response to.

Zack, who had disappeared into his and Cody's bedroom just 5 minutes ago, reappeared with his cellphone in his hand and grinning from ear to ear.

"Good news: I just found another diversion for the lobby." Zack announced.

"What is it?" I asked eagerly.

"Bob's about 4 blocks away. He got a part-time job as a dog-walker about 2 weeks ago. He's walking about 8 dogs. He can arrange for them to be outside the hotel in about 10 minutes. I just happen to have a dog whistle." Zack explained triumphantly.

"Zack, that's brilliant! The more mayhem, the better!" I exclaimed happily, much to Moseby's obvious dismay.

"Don't stress Moseby, the hotel won't get too damaged. This will work." I reassured him.

"Okay, it's 12:10. I need all of you to get into position now." I announced.

Each of them glanced at each other and then back at me and Lance with woeful expressions.

"Guys, it's going to be okay. I promise." I stated with as much truth and assurance that I could muster.

"You two be careful," Moseby instructed gravely.

"We will, same to all of you. Now go, please." I urged earnestly with a smile on my face.

They all smiled back at me one last time before exiting the suite, leaving me and Lance alone.

"Last chance to bail out," I murmured teasingly.

"Not a chance. Let's do this," Lance urged determinedly.

I nodded vigorously and then the both of us climbed back into the air vent.

After a few minutes, we I split up in the air vent, Lance heading towards Moseby's office and I towards Arwin's office. After Arwin nearly disabled me with a bone-crunching hug, he handed me the ammonium sulphide. Its colour was now a luminous yellow.

"I'm not even going to ask what you guys added to this." I mumbled with a smile.

"Don't," Cody agreed with revulsion while glancing at Arwin's beaming grin.

"This is perfect. Okay, it's show time. Places everyone!" I exclaimed jubilantly.

I was now in the central mainframe of the ventilation system somewhere between the 11th and 12th floors of the Tipton, clutching the ammonium sulphide in my hands. The necessary actors and actresses had been supplied with miniature walkie-talkies, inside and outside the hotel. It was time to do a quick roll-call before Zack and Cody entered the lobby.

"Agent L to external operatives of HALO and DEMON respectively, come in. Do you copy?" I whispered and waited.

"Agent L, this is HALO's external operatives, Agent Columbus reporting for all present. We await your orders, over." Chris' voice crackled after a few seconds.

"Agent L, this is DEMON's external operatives for the Tipton Rescue Mission, Agent Stone reporting. We are all present and accounted for, over." Alec answered right after.

"Roger that. Agent L to all internal Tipton operatives. Do you read me?" I asked of those on the inside and waited.

"Agent Oz here along with Moody Manager, over." Lance replied, which made me laugh.

"Opera Mom present, over," came Carey's response.

"Mad Scientist present, over." Arwin replied in a high-pitched voice.

"Sweet Thang and El Diablo present, over." Maddie responded with a laugh.

"Double Trouble reporting for duty, over." Zack responded.

"Hey, I never agreed to that alias!" Cody hissed over the walkie-talkie when I interrupted.

"Okay Double Trouble, curtain calls. Make me proud, over and out."

"Roger that." Cody ended off and then I heard them on the move.

I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. The hands clutching the ammonium sulphide were shaking. Then I heard the beginning of Zack and Cody's argument as they approached the OPIUM guard positioned in front of Moseby's manager desk.

"You idiot, this is all your fault!" Zack exclaimed furiously.

"My fault? You're the one who wanted to play with the rats in the first place!" Cody shot back angrily.

"Hey, whoa! What are you two munch-kins doing down here?" the OPIUM operative barked impatiently.

"Kind sir, we need your help!" Cody pleaded in a whiny voice.

"What's the problem?" the guard asked with a sneer.

"It's my idiotic brother, he set our pet rats loose!" Zack complained loudly.

"For the last time, I did not set them loose. They escaped right out of the cage!" Cody fumed indignantly.

"All because you put the cage in the hallway!" Zack returned.

"Because you told me to! You said you were bored!" Cody retorted, turning red in the face.

"Hey, what are you yapping about?" the guard interrupted quizzically.

"I'm yapping about the fact that my dork of a brother left the cage open and our rats escaped. They're somewhere in the hotel." Zack roared.

"Stop blaming me Zack! You were supposed to lock the cage last night! And I am not a dork!" Cody fumed.

"Wait! Are you telling me there are rats in this hotel? How many?" the guard demanded frantically.

"I don't know. 5…maybe 10." Zack mused thoughtfully.

"10?!" the guard exclaimed hysterically.

"You damn kids! Rats in a hotel? The Boss is going to kill me! Rats spread disease!" the guard bellowed, pulling out strands of his hair from his scalp.

"Slow down my good man, you're thinking of the Bubonic Plague. The chance of our pet rats spreading any disease among the hotel guests is extremely rare." Cody explained calmly.

"Even so, we've gotta round them up. Where would they go?" the guard asked curiously.

"That depends, they might go into the kitchen." Cody suggested thoughtfully.

"But they also prefer the dark. Maybe under a bed, in a storage room…**or stuck in the vents**?" Zack added with the slightest tinge of a smirk in his tone.

This was the signal. I put my gas mask back on and threw the ammonium sulphide into the central valve, which controlled the flow of cold air and distributed it through the vents. Then I began crawling through the vent down towards the lobby. For a moment I felt like Pandora opening up the box. She too had only been curious, not expecting anything bad to happen. But would the box yield any hope this time?

Have you ever experienced a moment of pure and unadulterated silence right before something big is about to happen? It's deafening. All it takes is a series of actions and one moment of diversion…

A stray hotel guest in the lobby was the first to notice the subtle change in the air before anyone else.

"Look!" she cried, pointing an idle finger at the chandelier overhead.

There was yellow smoke permeating the lobby seemingly through the very walls. The OPIUM operative who had been talking to Zack and Cody just minutes before frowned in confusion.

"What the-" he murmured softly.

And then all pandemonium broke loose when numerous fire sprinklers erupted overhead, showering everything and everyone in sight. Screams and moans could be heard everywhere as people tried to duck down and take cover. Then I noticed Zack blow on a silver whistle surreptitiously which made no sound at all. Then he nodded at Norman the Doorman, who nodded back and opened the main door. In bounded at least 10 dogs about 4 seconds later, barking as loud as could be. The guard scrutinised Norman for a second before walking menacingly in his direction. I saw that as my cue when I jumped down from the air vent and came to stand directly behind him. Then I tapped him on the shoulder. Before the guard had turned around fully to face me, I punched him square in the jaw, knocking him out cold.

Two more OPIUM guards appeared through the smoky mist from the kitchen with guns in their hands.

"Get down!" I ordered of the twins who obediently ducked behind the candy counter.

Taking out my favourite gun, I fired off two cool shots at each guard, the silencer muffling the blow considerably. Their bodies crumbled a few feet away from me and then became still. Most of the guests in the lobby were in hysterics.

"Everybody stay down!" I ordered loudly while scanning the room.

I ducked out of the way just in time as a bullet lodged itself into the sofa in front of Moseby's favourite vase, millimetres away from where my head had been moments before. Before I could fire off another shot at my assailant, he was bowled clean off his feet by an over-eager Doberman who began licking him enthusiastically.

"Good boy," I murmured to the dog before tasing the guard he had knocked over.

"Norman, open all the doors! Everyone, head for the exit!" I commanded quickly.

As the guests began making a bee-line for the exit, more OPIUM operatives appeared and began firing in my general direction. That's when both Lance and the twins came to my aid. Lance began firing at the guards near the elevator while the twins assisted him by throwing lobby relics and collectables (save for Moseby's favourite vase) at them. While some of them were taken out of commission by Lance's bullets, the rest keeled over because they got hit in the head and stomach by pewter trays and trophies thrown at them by Zack and Cody.

"Lance, did you disable and re-route the emergency lock-down?" I screamed frantically when he came towards me.

By means of explanation, he showed me the frayed wires on the output system in his hands with a grin on his face.

"Good work! We've got to get into the kitchen to open the exit into the alleyway!" I shouted rapidly.

Moseby came running out of his office at that moment.

"I'm going to go alert the guests upstairs!" Moseby exclaimed quickly.

"Okay, but hurry! And for God's sake, be careful Moseby!" I advised frantically.

He nodded quickly in my direction and headed for the fire escape.

Just as the four of us raced towards the kitchen, we heard a commotion and what sounded like 'Hep, Hep!'

"That's Esteban's voice!" Zack exclaimed hurriedly.

"It sounds like he's in trouble!" Cody announced frantically.

"C'mon!" Lance ordered quickly before we entered the kitchen.

Sure enough, Esteban was being held against the wall in a vice-like grip by yet another OPIUM creep. Esteban was wailing and pleading in Spanish or some other kind of language. But before we could intervene, the guard released his grip on Esteban and his body shook convulsively. When he dropped to the ground unconscious, we noticed Maddie standing above him, clutching the taser-gun in her hand.

"Oh thank you Maddie. I owe-" Esteban began to say, but stopped abruptly.

In a split second he had picked up a tray on one of the kitchen counters, and whacked another guard standing directly behind Maddie in the face with it, sending him careening to the floor.

The twins and Lance and I stood rooted to the ground for a few seconds, marvelling at Esteban and Maddie's antics.

"Damn Maddie! Nice work!" Lance congratulated eagerly which made Maddie blush momentarily.

"You too Esteban, but why didn't you use your taser gun in the first place?" I questioned curiously.

"It hed an eccident," Esteban explained woefully, drawing our attention to an array of electric sparks and pieces of metal lying on the kitchen floor.

"Hey, how come we didn't get weapons too? We're the ones risking our necks out there!" Zack complained indignantly.

Just as Esteban and Maddie were about to argue with Zack and Cody, Lance intervened.

"Guys, let's not fight. Remember what we're doing here: we need to make sure the alley's clear so we can get the guests out of this exit safely." Lance interjected smoothly.

"You're right Lance, sorry." Cody apologised on everyone's behalf.

Just then Carey and Arwin came rushing into the kitchen, their clothing completely soaked through.

"Is the coast clear?" Carey whispered conspiratorially.

"Because we've got a whole lot of guests that want out right now," Arwin added hastily with a nervous chuckle.

"Everything's fine this side. Start hauling them out. Good work Carey and Arwin." I answered quickly as we began herding some 50 guests through the kitchen.

"Lance, you need to get to the roof now and send up the flare. The lobby's almost clear," I added.

"Carey, Arwin and Esteban. Keep herding as many people out of the kitchen and then you three follow them out of the exit. The police are right around the corner in front of the hotel. We'll get Mr. Moseby and everyone else out that's still upstairs." Lance instructed calmly.

Carey looked like she wanted to object when she saw the twins still standing with us, but Cody interrupted this time.

"Mom, it's okay. Zack and I want to help London and Lance. We'll come meet you as soon as the fire escapes are clear."

"I'll make sure nothing happens to them Carey, I promise." I added in what I hoped was a kind tone.

After that Carey nodded her tear-stained face while Arwin and Esteban steered her gently back into the kitchen.

"Be careful Ms. London!" Esteban called out before they eventually disappeared.

The five of us then raced to the elevator and began pressing the button for the 23rd floor rapidly. It seemed like a lifetime before the doors opened, when in actuality it had just been over 2 minutes. The fire sprinklers were still spraying water relentlessly in every direction and the four of us were looking more and more like drowned cats. We heard a commotion inside the nearest fire escape, like someone being dragged away. And that someone sounded like Moseby. We quickly opened the door to the fire escape to see Moseby being flanked by two OPIUM guards with guns descending the stairway to the level below us. Nodding to one another, Lance and I both jumped over the railing and landed square on top of the two guards, knocking them further down the stairway. While Maddie and the twins ran downstairs to help Moseby to his feet, Lance and I managed to dislodge the guns from the guards with some well-placed kicks. Lance brought the palm of his hand up towards the one guard's nose, breaking it on contact while I delivered several punches to the other guard's stomach and groin. When we were finished with the both of them, Lance brought out some handcuffs from his back-pack and we chained the both of them to the stairway railing. Then all 7 of us locked the door behind us and returned to the hallway of the 23rd floor. Just ahead of us, a few paces to the right was the fire escape exit to the rooftop and straight ahead at the end of the corridor was a passageway to the left which led to my father's penthouse suite.

"Quick everyone, to the rooftop. After Lance sends off the flare, Daddy's private helicopter will come and pick you all up and take you to the policemen and agents in front of the Tipton. That'll be the signal for them to enter the Tipton." I instructed as we ran towards the edge of the rooftop.

Lance fished the flare and a lighter out of his back-pack. Lighting it carefully, he hoisted it into the air and we all watched as it exploded and emitted a smoky red glare.

"There, that's the signal. Come on, let's check to make sure the coast is clear." Lance suggested rapidly after zipping up his back-pack.

Just as we were about to head down the hallway towards Daddy's suite, Zack called out to me.

"London, look out!" he screamed frantically.

I instinctively ducked just before I felt something whizz sharply past my shoulder as I crouched down. We all stared in horror at a richly decorated dagger that had missed my chest by a fraction and embedded itself neatly in the wall behind me, in front of two aluminium lamps.

**Was that enough of a cliff hanger for you? Please tell me what you thought about the chapter and whether the details about the hotel layout and dialogue made any sense. I'm sorry if I offended any pranksters about my incredible lack of knowledge about how to make a stink bomb. I do don't do physical pranks, I'm more of a laugh-in-your-face-and-run kind of gal. Anyway, more angst and action coming up in the next chapter. Cheerio for now!**


	10. Sugar, We're Going Down

**Oops, I did it again! I used yet another Fall Out Boy Title. I'm sorry, but their songs and lyrics are just so good. I must thank Pete Wentz and his bi-polarity (I'm not being offensive I swear). I hope you enjoy the action sequences in this one, let me know what you think. I promised you more angst, so without any further ado.**

**"_I'm out of time and all I've got is 4 minutes…to save the world."_**

**Timbaland, "4 Minutes" (Video Remix)**

A woman stood serenely in the hallway right in front of the penthouse suite's door, holding a sword in her hand. There was nothing remarkable about her features at all, but her eyes were like flint: steely and determined. She had an air of familiarity about her. Then I remembered: I had seen her on the day I went to meet Laurent Savoy at Des Champs when I was kidnapped by OPIUM. She had been sitting at a table directly behind us on the balcony. I had thought at the time that she had been hovering unnecessarily close to us. Now I understood why: she was Laurent's little lap-dog.

"Guys, you head back to the roof, I'll take care of this!" I yelled out over the rush of the sprinklers.

"But London-" Maddie intervened fearfully before I stopped her.

"Maddie, it's okay. I can handle this." I stated firmly, putting up an appeasing hand in the air.

Lance nodded and started to lead them away.

"London, use the lamp!" Cody instructed quickly.

As they exited through the rooftop door, I glanced quickly at one of the lamps. Cody was absolutely right, it was perfect. The woman in front of me still hadn't moved a muscle.

"I remember you," I began conversationally as I moved subtly towards the lamp.

"You were at Des Champs a few days ago, the same day that I was kidnapped by OPIUM. I had a meeting with Laurent Savoy there; you were sitting right behind us. It's funny, at the time I thought you looked like a jealous ex-girlfriend. But now I get it, you're just the Boss's Bitch." I continued in a sing-song tone, hoping to get a reaction out of her.

She moved slowly towards me, the sword grasped tightly in her hands. The closer she got, the angrier her expression became.

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect the Boss," she murmured coldly in a low voice.

"Well then, I won't disappoint you. Because I'll do whatever it takes to get to him. But first, I'm going to neuter you." I threatened menacingly, dropping my smile.

She smirked at this suggestion, the sword so close now that it was actually gleaming.

"Big talk for someone without a weapon," she sneered with a grin on her face.

"I'm full of surprises." I answered softly before grabbing the lamp.

I then swiftly smashed the bulb against the wall, causing it to shatter into a million shards on the wet carpet. That left me with an available weapon: the aluminum rod. Laurent's lap-dog charged me at that precise moment, the sword pointing directly at my chest. I dodged her advance by bringing the rod horizontally against my chest to stifle the blow. A flashback entered my head of when I was 10 years old and Daddy had forced me to take fencing lessons. I absolutely loathed the idea at the time because I had to cancel a trip with Portia and Chelsea to the French Riviera. The only reason I ended up sticking with my lessons in the end was because my instructor was good-looking. I silently thanked Daddy for his foresight.

I twirled and ducked at each turn as my assailant continued taking swipes at me with her sword. One time she narrowly missed me my head and ended up cutting off the head of the other aluminum lamp, sending the remaining light bulb onto the carpet. I noticed that a pool of water from the sprinklers was gathering in the centre of the carpet that separated the two of us. I knew that I couldn't keep up this fight for much longer with only the aluminum rod as my chosen weapon. She was now gaining some distance on me and attempting to force me into a corner. Then I remembered that I still had a taser in my pocket that I had charged just minutes ago. I began attacking her with the rod, bringing the full force of it down against her sword as I tried to force her backwards. Even though she seemed to only be a novice at sword-fighting, she was still a good deal stronger than me physically. It would take a lot more to throw her off balance.

I saw an opportunity when she tried to force my back against a table standing in front of one of the walls. Before she could pin me against it, I managed to twirl my body around and crouch under the table. I heard the wood splinter above me as she brought the sword down violently onto the table overhead. I managed to roll to safety out from under it, still clutching the rod in my hands just as I felt the blade miss me and embed itself into the carpet. I deftly ran my thumb over the taser in my pocket and switched it on, causing it to begin charging. Then I distracted my assailant by throwing the rod right at her. Just for one second she took her eyes off of me when she ducked for cover. That's when I aimed at her stomach and kicked as hard as I could, using all of my lower-body strength. She toppled backwards, but didn't lose her balance entirely. However, she was standing exactly where I wanted her, smack bam in the centre of the puddle on the carpet. That's when I whipped out the taser and stabbed it into the carpet. The result was instantaneous: the spark coursed through her body and she began writhing rapidly as the electricity and the water mingled in a rippling effect. Then her eyes rolled into the back of her head before she collapsed, her cheek making a splash as she fell onto her side into the puddle.

I caught my breath as I stared at her lifeless body.

"Cocky bitch," I muttered dryly before running back towards the rooftop entrance.

The helicopter had arrived and Lance was opening the doors for the twins and Maddie.

"London, oh my God! Are you alright?" Maddie asked worriedly.

"I'm fine." I responded dismissively.

"I was just about to come get you. What happened?" Lance demanded hurriedly.

"I neutered the bitch." I responded sardonically which made them all stare at me in confusion.

The helicopter was preparing to take off any second. It was time to make my move.

"Lance, give me the remote for the emergency lock-down." I commanded gently.

He gave it to me without any hesitation, but his eyes widened when he saw what I was doing.

"London, what are you doing?" he demanded incredulously.

"Re-routing the mechanism like we talked about." I answered quickly while keying in the number 23 on the device.

"London, I didn't agree to this. What was the flare for if you're going to lock down the entire Tipton? This was not part of the plan!" Lance snapped angrily.

"This was always the plan Lance. I'm just going to put the 23rd floor on lock-down. After I get my father out, I need you to wait for him on the roof and take him with the helicopter." I explained quickly.

"What about you?" Lance demanded hurriedly.

"I have an appointment with Laurent Savoy that I can't miss." I said simply.

"So you're going to lock-down the 23rd floor while you're still up there?" Lance asked despairingly.

"The only thing I set out to do was to get all the important people out of the hotel. I've succeeded so far. That just leaves Daddy." I stated, a lump rising in my throat as I spoke.

"London, you can't bargain with Laurent Savoy. Besides, what makes you so sure you can convince him to release your father?" Lance demanded knowingly.

"He'll agree to it when he realises just how high the stakes are. I'll make him an offer he can't refuse." I replied seriously.

"And what about you? If you think I'm going to let you-"

"You have to Lance. I'm not that important." I remarked stoically with a wry smile on my face.

"Yes you are," Lance murmured vehemently, coming towards me to cup my face in his hands.

"Think about what you're doing," he whispered in my ear.

"I have thought about it. And I've made the necessary provisions in case something happens to me. You get my secret room" I added with a twinkle in my eye which made him chuckle for a split second.

"You're making me break my promise London. We're supposed to be in this together. I walked through a goddamn sewer with you! And now you want to just leave you here." Lance mumbled angrily, his eyes becoming strangely moist.

"You haven't broken your promise; you've held up your end of the bargain. You've done everything in your power to keep me safe and I'm grateful. But this is something that I have to do, I have to finish this. I'm doing this for Brandy too." I whispered frantically, the tears spilling freely from my eyes.

"London-˝ Lance persisted, but I put my finger to his lips.

"I need you to know that I don't regret anything that's happened these past few days."

With that, I kissed him forcefully on the mouth, my hands coming up to caress his face. I pulled away just as quickly and began walking towards the rooftop exit.

"Take care of the people I love. That's all I can ask of you now," I added as I wiped the tears off my cheeks. I glanced over one last time to where the twins and Maddie sat in the helicopter, their expressions sombre.

Then I closed the door firmly behind me. I was well and truly alone now…

I was walking as slowly as possible towards my destination, hoping that time would slow down for a fraction more. I passed by Laurent's lap-dog, her body lying pathetically in the puddle on the carpet. I just hoped that whatever happened, I would go down swinging. It was amazing how at this possible moment I'd never felt more alive. Isn't it ironic that when the last few hours of your life might just be seconds away, you feel like you could live forever? Brandy was foremost in my mind now. What would she think of what I was doing? Would she be proud? All I wanted now was for the nightmares to stop so that I could finally be free.

I was outside the penthouse suite. There wasn't a guard in sight. I grabbed a tiny grenade from my back-pack and duck-taped it to the door. Then I ran a few paces away from the door towards the window. I pulled out the detonator and flicked a switch. The explosion blew the door right off its hinges and it crashed into the adjacent wall. I shot the first guard who came to inspect and he pitched face-down into the broken door. One down, seven more to go. Then I walked calmly into the penthouse, my gun pointed in front of me. There was no one in the living room, so I continued towards the study on the second floor landing. The minute I crossed the threshold, I heard the clicks of multiple cartridges being loaded. At least seven different guns were all pointed at my head. I guess some things never change. At least there would be no surprises in the final throes.

Laurent Savoy was sitting in Daddy's chair at his desk while Daddy sat opposite him. It seems I had interrupted a meeting between them. Daddy looked alarmed at my sudden appearance while the guards looked nervous. Laurent, however, smiled at me, showing no surprise at my sudden appearance.

"London Tipton! Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" he greeted amicably without rising from his seat.

"London, what are you doing here?" My father asked in bewilderment while staring at my attire.

"Daddy, it's okay. I'm here to rescue you." I explained nonchalantly without lowering my gun.

This admission was met with a laugh by Laurent Savoy.

"Is that what you've been up to downstairs? Executing a rescue mission? And here I was thinking you were causing chaos and mayhem in my hotel just to annoy me," He replied lightly with a chuckle.

"Nope, just chaos and mayhem in **my hotel**." I corrected firmly.

"Speaking of mayhem, what have you done with Consuela?" Laurent enquired nonchalantly.

I assumed he was referring to his favourite swordsmen. I grinned maliciously in his direction.

"She's cooling off in the hallway." I responded brightly.

"Pity, I was quite fond of her. She was an excellent fighter. Not as good as you are I'm afraid." Laurent commented lightly.

"Where have you been hiding these last few days London? I've been anxious to see you so we can clear up this misunderstanding," he added smoothly.

"There's no misunderstanding here: you're trying to take what doesn't belong to you and killing innocent people in the process. Anxious to see me? Or just anxious to take me out of the equation. Well I'm here now." I replied softly.

"Yes you are. So what's your next move? Are you going to join your father in trying to derail my plans for the Tipton?" Laurent asked searchingly.

"On the contrary. I'm here to make you an offer." I responded promptly.

Both Laurent and my father straightened up in their seats while the guards continued pointing their guns at me.

"What kind of offer?" Laurent probed in a low voice.

"We both know that the Tipton is rightfully mine. My father signed it over to me when I was 13 years old. Arthur Trent, an old family friend, witnessed this agreement between my father and I. My father in fact has no legal entitlement to the hotel except in name. I was previously adamant that the hotel remain in my family. But I've been thinking it over and I've decided to give the hotel to you-"

"London, no!" my father roared, rising to his feet.

Some of the guards pointed their guns at him instead, but Laurent waved a lazy hand at them to relax their stance.

"In exchange for my father's life." I concluded seriously.

"What's the catch? Laurent demanded suspiciously.

"No catch. There's a helicopter on the roof waiting to take my father to a safe location. One of your guards will escort him out there while I stay behind and negotiate the terms of a new contract of sale for the Tipton." I answered simply.

"How do I know you're not bluffing?" Laurent questioned impatiently.

I carefully removed one of three envelopes from my jacket and tossed it to him.

"A copy of the original deed as well as a revised draft of a contract in which I agree to divest all my interests in the Tipton to you, Laurent Savoy, CEO of OPTIMUM Pharmaceuticals. Arthur Trent is a corporate lawyer who has looked over this contract as well. Everything's in order." I stated confidently.

Laurent scanned it for a few seconds before he was satisfied.

"It looks legitimate." He agreed reluctantly.

"London, don't do this! Do you know what he has planned for the Tipton? He's going to turn it into OPIUM's private headquarters for all of their criminal endeavours!" My father exclaimed angrily.

"I know Daddy, but I don't care. The Tipton isn't more important than your life." I answered genuinely.

"And what about your life, huh? Do you honestly think I'm going to walk out that door and leave you here with these terrorists?" My father demanded furiously.

"How touching. And here I was thinking that Wilfred Tipton didn't have a paternal bone in his body." Laurent murmured nastily.

On another day, I might have actually agreed with him.

"That's exactly what I expect you to do Daddy. I can take care of myself. I've been doing it my whole life." I answered grimly.

"But London-"

"Do we have a deal or not Savoy?" I demanded, ignoring my father.

Laurent pressed his fingertips together against his chin while he thought it over.

"Alright, we have a deal, I don't want to continue this stalemate. Your father's free to go. You stay behind and we'll discuss our new business arrangement. Wallace, take Mr. Tipton to the rooftop and come straight back to the suite." Laurent instructed forcefully.

The guard identified as Wallace took hold of my father's arm and hoisted him onto his feet. Then he began dragging him towards the hallway.

"London-" My father pleaded once more, but I interrupted him.

"Daddy, it's okay. I love you." I answered firmly.

And then he was gone. My heart was thumping violently in my chest while Laurent read through the contract more thoroughly this time. Neither I nor the guards relaxed our stances. The 5 minutes it took Wallace to take Daddy outside was absolute agony. H returned to the suite soon after.

"Has Mr. Tipton been safely escorted off the premises Wallace?" Laurent enquired politely.

"Yes Boss." Wallace responded promptly.

"Excellent, now onto business. Are you ready to put your money where your mouth is?" Laurent questioned maliciously of me.

"Not quite. First, I'd like to set the mood."

I grabbed the lock-down remote from my pocket and keyed in the number 23 a second time. As expected, there was a slight fluctuation in the power surge, causing the lights in the penthouse to flicker momentarily. Laurent and the guards glanced around the room in confusion as the sound of an alarm going off in the distance.

"What have you done?" Laurent asked me softly.

"I wanted to ensure that we have some privacy so that I could offer you the real deal. I deactivated the Tipton's emergency lock-down mechanism and re-routed it to this remote. But instead of locking the entire hotel, I've chosen to just shut down the 23rd floor. No one's leaving this suite." I responded cryptically.

"And why would you do something so absurd?" Laurent pressed curiously while relaxing in his chair.

"So I could make you an offer you can't refuse."

Then I tossed yet another envelope towards him. He opened it up hurriedly and frowned at its contents.

"What is this?" he demanded impatiently.

"The last will and testament of London Tipton. As you can see, I've made a few changes to it in the past few days. Instead of bequeathing the Tipton to my father, Wilfred Tipton, I've decided to give it to Marion Moseby, the hotel manager. Arthur Trent has the original will in his possession as well, you can keep the copy." I pointed out cheerily with a grin.

"What about your agreement to give me the Tipton?" Laurent demanded in a livid tone.

"Yeah, about that. This is going to sound clichéd, but I lied. I told you before that you're getting the Tipton over my dead body. Maybe now, you might have some motivation to make that happen."

With that, I retrieved yet another envelope from my jacket and tossed it towards him.

"How many more of these do you have?" Laurent asked wearily while scanning the latest set of documents.

His eyes widened at the contents.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked lightly, but his eyes betrayed his sudden alarm.

"Not in the least. I've been doing some digging and I bumped into your personal accountant and blackmailer Kevin Moran. He's quite the conversationalist." I remarked airily.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know a Kevin Moran." Laurent answered without blinking.

"Really? That's weird. 'Cause he seems to know a lot of about you and OPIUM. Much more than an accountant would usually know about his employer. It looks like he took out some insurance not covered by his company benefits in case you decided to get rid of him. I guess he trusts you about as much as I do." I stated sardonically.

"And if you'll notice, he was very succinct in outlining every single criminal endeavour he did while in OPIUM's employ as well as ones he wasn't personally involved in. Let's see: the Panacea Project (yip, that was his baby), the drug mill in Beijing, the Shangri-La Hotel, the hit placed on Reuben Marshall. Ooh dear, accountants can be so thorough at the worst of times." I mused, feigning a scandalised tone.

"You can't prove a thing. You have the word of one of OPTIMUM's disgruntled employees. You've got nothing." Laurent sneered vindictively.

"I don't think so, keep reading Smarty-Pants. It's not just Kevin Moran's word against you. On page 10, I've got statements and signatures of several employees from OPTIMUM's lower levels who swear to testing out the artificial peptide that killed Reuben Marshall. Then there are all sorts of inventory lists and contracts with airlines for illegal drug exports with your signature on them. Not to mention the fact that Alexei Novak is willing to testify against you; you were his errand-boy not too long ago correct? Apparently he didn't take too kindly to being replaced as CEO of OPIUM." I continued snidely.

"You're bluffing." Laurent hissed angrily.

"I don't bluff when the stakes are this high. I'm a Tipton and I play to win. It's in my blood. Plus, I'm trained to be thorough and to always get my man. And I've got you this time. Didn't I say you'd have some motivation to kill me once you found out what the real deal on the table is?" I asked dangerously.

"You haven't told me what the real deal is yet," Laurent snapped impatiently.

"There is only one deal on the table, for you anyway. Sign a confession and turn yourself in. OPIUM's days are numbered. Best to climb off a sinking ship while there's still time." I answered carefully.

"And if I refuse? What if I decide to kill you instead? After all, we are trapped in this suite with no visible way out." Laurent sneered menacingly, coming to stand just inches away from me.

"Then go ahead, pull the trigger. But know this: Arthur Trent has the originals of every last document I've given to you today. If I don't exit out of this hotel by 15:00 exactly, then he'll take those documents straight to the appropriate authorities. So even if you kill me, it will only confirm your crimes. Whichever way you look at it, you're screwed and I win." I murmured softly.

Without warning, Laurent cried out sharply. He grabbed a crystal paper weight from Daddy's desk and threw it haphazardly against the back wall, causing it to break into dozens of pieces.

"That was one of a kind," I added facetiously.

"You little bitch," he muttered with ragged breaths.

"I've been called worse." I replied dismissively.

"Should we kill her Boss?" Wallace asked threateningly.

"No." Laurent mumbled wearily.

Instead, he whisked my gun from my hand and pointed it directly at my forehead.

"I'll do it myself," he added quietly, the sweat running down his face.

"So I guess you will be getting the Tipton over my dead body after all. Wouldn't it be easier to just confess?" I asked slowly.

"I'll take my chances. Any last words?" he asked in an alluring voice.

"This is for Brandy. Go to hell, you bastard." I hissed maliciously.

"You first," he whispered.

That's when he cocked the gun. I closed my eyes as the cartridge clicked into place. This was it. No more regrets, no more lies.

But then something unexpected happened. The lights went off, plunging the entire suite in impenetrable darkness. Did I just press something? I instinctively dropped down and crept underneath Daddy's desk amidst the chaos. Whatever was going on, it must be a sign that I wasn't going to die today. The lights went back on once more and I heard the sound of a generator buzzing faintly in the distance. Then I heard a series of alternate sounds which very nearly deadened my eardrums permanently. The first was the sound of Laurent firing my gun. The second set was the sound of glass breaking all around me, which was then followed by more gun shots. I stared in horror as unknown figures closed ranks on Laurent's guards and took them down swiftly. The gun was wrestled from Laurent's hand and he was brought to ground and cuffed. The figure pinning Laurent down ripped off his mask and my heart leapt as he smiled back at me.

"You didn't honestly think I was going to leave you behind you silly rich girl?" Lance asked quizzically with a knowing look in his eyes.

"What took you so long?" I demanded impatiently, hands on my hips.

**Hoped you all enjoyed the chapter. I was listening to my iPod about 2 weeks ago while doing the dishes when '4 Minutes' came up on my playlist. I thought Timbaland's line from the intro was just too cool to pass over. I thought it lended to the dramatic effect I was aiming for. This chapter was definitely more of the angst you're used to in former chapters where London is trying to confront her demons from the past. Hope the action and emotion was plausible in this chapter, let me know what you think. It's been a love-hate relationship with this story. A part of me's been really anxious to finish it so I can move onto other future Fanfic stories in other categories. But at the same time, I've loved writing about London's smartitude, especially in this chapter. I feel like everything's that's transpired in this story so far finally comes together in chapter 10. There are only two chapters left in this story, I'm happy I could prolong the ending. They'll be much shorter than the last few. Thanks for sticking with me fellow readers and writers. You're beautiful! **


	11. Silver Lining

**Shoo, I'm so glad the harder chapters are over now. After that, this will be a cinch ; ) This chapter and the next are basically round-offs for the conclusion to this wonderful tale. I want to thank all the reviewers out there who've stuck with this story. I'll be very glad to put this story to bed soon so I can work on new stories with more romance and comedy. I'm all spied out : ) Hope you enjoy the mush.**

Like most people, I have several memories of happier times that are dear to me. It's so hard to just pick one when there are so many previous events that have brought a smile to my face and warmed my heart. I was about 4 years old and I was in Paris with my parents. The Paris Tipton had just been launched and we were attending the opening ceremony. Right after my father cut the big red ribbon, I remember there being an eruption of applause from those standing around me. I remember holding on tightly to my mother's hand while she beamed with pride at my father. After cutting the ribbon, my father came towards us and scooped me up in his arms with a broad grin on his face.

"_So what do you think__? Did Daddy do good?" he asked in a sing-song voice. _

"_Daddy did really good." I answered happily. _

"_What did you like best?" he asked curiously._

"_The big red ribbon." I replied easily, which made him roar with laughter. _

"_Guess what? When you're all grown up, all of this will be yours." He stated seriously while looking into my eyes. _

_As I gazed up at this magnificent building before me, I couldn't comprehend the idea of growing old, let alone all this grandeur belonging to no one but me. _

"_But I don't want it all Daddy, that's way too much." I responded hurriedly, which made him stare quizzically back at me. _

"_Well then, what do you want London?" he asked me cautiously._

"_I want to stay with you and Mommy forever back in Boston at the Tipton. And I want ice-cream!" I exclaimed jubilantly, which made him chuckle and kiss me gently on the cheeks. _

"_Tell you what: Mommy and I will always be here sweetheart. As for the Tipton, it will always be your home. I promise you that. Now how 'bout we get some ice-cream huh? Does Strawberries & Cream sound good?" My father asked mischievously. _

"_Yay Me!" I clapped enthusiastically, which made my mother laugh as she kissed my hair…_

This moment kinda felt like that, but with more cameras, more eyes, and no ice-cream. I was just as dazed and bewildered as the flashes went off from numerous cameras and microphones repeatedly shoved in my face as I had been when I was just a toddler. I hadn't known then that every eye would be focused on me, scrutinizing my every move since birth. But the scrutiny seemed different this time. Previously, I had been subjected to the jeers and criticisms of the paparazzi as they scathingly asked me questions about my personal life and how I managed to spend more than 1 million dollars a years during yet another recession. Today, people were gazing at me in a whole new light. Today I wasn't just another dumb heiress making front page news based on what designer labels I was wearing. Today I was a normal citizen who had undergone a life-threatening situation and come out unscathed. Today I was a hero.

Moseby insisted on taking me to the hospital to get checked out. I decided to let him have his way; besides, it was Dr. Hamilton's day-off and I didn't want to disturb him. He didn't get too many vacations, especially when I was in the middle of a mission. I didn't even notice when my father's security's detail arrived on the scene and whisked him off to one of his hideouts where he liked to avoid the public eye. I was more than happy to travel in one DEMON's SUV's along with Carey, Maddie, Zack, Cody, Lance, Esteban, Arwin and Moseby and just reminisce while we drove to the hospital.

Over the next few days, Moseby was pragmatic (if not disturbing) in his efforts to keep the paparazzi from harassing me with questions about the hostage situation. I was a little nervous about having to face my superiors considering the stunt Lance and I had pulled. I still had a lot of questions for Lance concerning DEMON and HALO's elaborate entrance into Daddy's penthouse suite considering the entire floor was on lock-down.

"Seriously, how did you do it? I didn't think anything could by-pass the lock-down mechanism, no matter how temporary." I stated in bewilderment while both Lance and I were sitting on hospital beds being checked out by separate doctors.

"Simple: we called the power company and explained the situation to them. They shut down the power in the city for a couple of minutes. With the kind of security system your father had installed, it shuts down like other systems of its kind during a black-out. But it starts it up after about 20 minutes. All we needed was a few minutes to get into the hotel before the generator kicked it. We figured the aerial route would be quicker while still having the element of surprise." Lance explained with a cocky smile playing on his face.

Once all the figures in the suite had ripped their masks off, I realized that they were my DEMON comrades and hopefully future HALO compatriots. I'll admit that I didn't initially take to Lance's friend Chris after he shoved my face into a gravel road. But after this latest mission, having worked together as a team, I realized that he was growing on me.

"That was quick thinking on your part, but still incredibly risky. I had everything under control. I wasn't afraid of dying if it meant that I could save more lives." I murmured softly.

"As noble as that is, did you ever think about the people you were leaving behind? You may think your life is unimportant, but you have made a difference in people's lives. Besides, I wasn't ready to let you go just yet after getting you back again." Lance replied seriously.

"Well I'm glad you did come and rescue me. I guess I was being a tad bit dramatic." I admitted sheepishly.

"Just a smidge." Lance agreed with a laugh.

Then I turned our light-hearted conversation to a more serious note.

"Have you heard from your superiors yet?" I asked curiously.

He shook his head.

"I reckon they'll wait a couple of days to give us time to recuperate before they ambush us." He reflected seriously.

"Knowing Omar, he's probably pissed considering that we broke ranks while on probation. Still, an impromptu rescue mission without any civilian casualties has to count for something right?" I asked hopefully.

"Knowing Lynette, I wouldn't count on it." Lance responded glumly, which deflated my optimism.

We soon got our answer when we were both summoned by our respective superiors to headquarters for debriefing and what Eleanor deemed a 'chat'. I tried to ignore the sinking sensation in my heart as I rode the elevator after striding through a shopping mall full of prying eyes and gaping stares. Everything was just as it usually was when the elevator doors opened, the blue fluorescent lights twinkling invitingly against the lobby ceiling. But I was taken aback slightly when a multitude of people began clapping enthusiastically in my direction and cheering with beaming smiles. I tried to play it off abashedly with a wave of my hand and murmured thanks when I noticed Eleanor standing outside her office door, eyeing me appraisingly. Clearing my throat, I made my way towards her, tugging self-consciously at the bottoms of my tailored jacket.

"Omar's already waiting for us in the conference room." Eleanor stated by way of greeting.

I had dressed very carefully for my debriefing as I anticipated either good or bad news. The best I could hope for at this point was that I was dismissed without having to endure too much of Omar's notorious 'tarnishing the CIA's reputation of order and discretion' speech. Alec, who was sitting in his cubicle, gave me a thumbs-up and a reassuring wink which I returned gratefully. The conference room was the same as ever – chilly and imposing. Omar as usual hadn't taken a seat, but stood resolutely in front of the projector screen, surveying me as I came towards him.

"Agent L, please take a seat." He commanded briskly.

"If it's alright with you sir, I'd prefer to stand." I responded politely with a touch of hysteria in my voice.

"Very well," he relented while I struggled to keep my breathing even.

"I'm sure you're aware of why Eleanor and I have called you in today. As you well know, insubordination is taken very seriously within the CIA's ranks." Omar began ominously.

"Yes sir." I responded meekly.

"I gave both you and Agent Oz strict orders not to approach the Tipton Hotel at any time during the negotiation period. Is that correct?" Omar demanded crisply.

"Yes sir." I replied quickly.

"And did you in fact adhere to my instructions or disregard them completely?" he demanded in a livid tone.

"I disobeyed your instructions sir." I admitted quietly while looking down at my feet.

Eleanor remained silent all the while, her expression blank.

"I believe that my instructions were clear, objective and given to aid the overall success of our bureaucratic procedure in a hostage situation. Do you then have any explanation for your flagrant disregard for the rules?" Omar interrogated ominously.

"Sir, I make no excuses for my behaviour. I acknowledge that both Agent Oz and I deliberately went against normal hostage procedure. The fault is my own; I hope that will be borne in mind when dealing fairly with Agent Oz. I disobeyed you in good conscience. My only concern was to protect the lives of innocent people who had nothing to do with the grudge held by OPIUM against myself and my father. In doing so, I wished to ensure that Laurent Savoy's crimes would be brought to light and that justice would be served so as to avoid another terrorist attack from this criminal syndicate in the future. You have always taught me that the saving of lives in whichever form is far more important than the CIA's reputation and discretion. I apologise for causing the agency any embarrassment and accept whatever punishment you feel is befitting of me." I answered as succinctly as possible, looking Omar square in the eye for the first time.

He observed me for a few more seconds while tapping his chin thoughtfully. That gesture could only mean trouble. Goodbye espionage, hello stake-outs for the rest of my life.

"Very well, I am satisfied with your explanation. The heads of HALO and DEMON have spoken at length regarding a suitable punishment for both you and Agent Oz. And we have all agreed that the two of you are hereby placed on another month of suspension for your insubordination." Omar stated severely.

I hung my head at this point. It seemed unfair after both Lance and I had risked our lives. But we did break the rules. I guess I just had to man up and take it.

"Eleanor, please explain the terms of Agent L's suspension." Omar entreated in a booming voice while I continued looking away.

"Agent L, you will still receive your regular salary while on suspension. In addition, you are hereby instructed to spend the duration of your suspension in an obscure location. Permit me to suggest the Maldives, the weather is quite ideal at this time of the year." Eleanor concluded in a somber voice.

The Maldives? What the hell was going on here? Prison Break: Escape from the Islands?

I raised my head to look at both Eleanor and Omar, who were grinning at my stupefied expression.

"The Maldives?" I asked quizzically.

"Since your services and skills won't be required in the field for a month, we agreed that both you and Agent Oz should use the time to rest and recuperate. After all, you've been very busy these past few days. We feel that you've earned a rest." Omar answered easily, the grin still in place.

Was I hearing this right? Am I actually getting time off work for breaking the rules?

"But sir, I've been suspended. I don't understand." I answered truthfully.

"True, you and Agent Oz did break the rules. But after the work you both did concerning the Tipton Hostage Situation, you must be rewarded. You managed to unite the forces of DEMON and HALO in a solo operation, a feat rarely achieved under normal bureaucratic process within the system. You showed that you possess tenacity, unusual resourcefulness and extraordinary bravery in a stressful situation. Excellent work London." Omar congratulated with more sincerity than I believed he actually possessed.

"Thank you sir. Your lenience is staggering." I responded meekly with the ghost of a smile on my face.

"You're welcome Agent, but don't go making a habit out of it." Omar warned sternly with a raised eyebrow.

"Understood sir." I stated with a grin.

"And one more thing: I would greatly appreciate it if express details about your suspension weren't repeated to anyone else outside of yours and Agent Oz's circle of peers. I have to be seen as having made an example out of you by my superiors." Omar added with a twinkle in his eye.

"My lips are sealed sir." I replied readily.

"Excellent. Please give my regards to Agent Oz. Please make the most of your suspension. You're dismissed, keep up the good work."

With that, Omar gave me one last smile before exiting the room. I turned to face Eleanor with a 'what the hell was that all about' look on my face which she recognized well. She too was smiling broadly as she came towards me.

"Well done London. You should be proud of yourself," she congratulated genuinely.

"Thank you Eleanor. That means a lot coming from you." I replied sincerely.

"It's funny, sometimes I wonder whether I've been a good mentor to you. I feel like I've let you down, that Brandy put too much of her faith in me." Eleanor admitted despondently, bowing her head slightly.

"Eleanor, that's not true. Don't you ever think that for a second. You are a fantastic agent and a great mentor. You've taught me everything I know. I wouldn't be standing here right now if it weren't for you. I owe you so much." I told her vehemently while placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"That's not true, Brandy taught you more than me. She taught you things that can't be assessed in a report or seen in a life-or-death situation. She helped you become the remarkable woman that you are today." Eleanor declared earnestly.

"I know she has. But she's not the only who's inspired me. These last few days have helped me realize what's important in life and the people that matter to me most. I just hope that Brandy's proud of what I've achieved." I admitted more to myself as I looked away.

Eleanor came towards me and put her arms around, pulling me into a close embrace. It felt nice to be hugged this way by someone; it had been too long. And after the last few days that I had endured, I could use all the hugs in the world. When Eleanor pulled away, she beamed at me once more. Perhaps a little too brightly this time.

"Brandy is proud of you London, no matter what you do. Always remember that." Eleanor stated earnestly.

After I thanked Eleanor again, I left her standing there in the conference room. I left with a surge of strange emotions, being both touched and saddened at the sight of Eleanor crying over my dead step-mother.

Before I could head home, I was duly summoned by my father. So I turned my car around and drove towards Tipton Enterprises instead. I had anticipated that my father would eventually want to talk to me about everything which had transpired a few days ago. I too wanted to talk to him, but had deliberately put it off. There was so much to say and I needed time to prepare myself. I got through my meeting with Omar and Eleanor and that had gone unexpectedly well. How bad could a conversation with my own father be?

When I entered my father's office, he was standing behind his desk, staring out at the Boston skyline, clearly deep in thought. I cleared my throat to let him know I was here. He turned to face me and gave me a wan smile.

"London, thank you for coming, please sit down."

I obediently took a seat adjacent to him.

"Would you like anything? A snack or a beverage?" My father asked politely.

"I'm fine Daddy. How are you?" I asked softly.

My father waved a dismissive hand at my concern.

"Perfectly normal and healthy. I've suffered through far worse in my life than a hostage situation. You really didn't have to call Dr. Hamilton to check up on me," he answered reproachfully.

"Always so stubborn," I muttered while shaking my head.

My father, however, pricked up his ears at my last comment.

"I didn't become the cutthroat businessman I am today by rolling over and playing dead. I guess you've inherited some of that same stubbornness and inability to back down from me." My father responded gruffly.

"I guess so," I conceded.

"What you did at the Tipton a few days ago was incredibly brave. But also incredibly reckless. It seems that you've been leading a double life for quite some time." My father announced shrewdly.

The statement still caught me off guard though I'd been expecting it for some days now.

"My current way of life is complicated and difficult to account for. I had to be discreet so as to avoid exposure and possible danger." I responded carefully without elaborating any further.

"So I've guessed. You don't have to bore me with the details. Need-to-know basis right? I control shares in nearly 50 different corporations. Yet I don't seem to know my own daughter as well as I presumed. I've underestimated you a great deal," he admitted quietly while staring into space.

"Yes you have," I agreed solemnly.

"Daddy, why didn't you tell me about the Panacea Project or the Shangri-La Hotel for that matter?" I questioned seriously.

My father, the ruthless businessman, looked disconcerted for a moment.

"Because I was ashamed. It's not easy for a man like myself to lose face in any sense, especially in the eyes of his offspring. I'm supposed to be able to read people well, make sound business decisions. I've always prided myself on my objectivity in seeing beyond the profit-margin. But with the Shangri-La Hotel and the Panacea Project, I was greedy. Not entirely for the money, but for the prestige of affiliation with grandeur and status. For a moment I didn't want to just be Wilfred Tipton, the cutthroat hotel mogul. I wanted to be Wilfred Tipton, the philanthropist, the pioneer. I lost my focus and it almost cost me everything, including my reputation. It was a close call with the Shangri-La scandal, but the Panacea Project-"

"That wasn't your fault Daddy. Kevin Moran and Laurent Savoy tricked you and tried to blackmail you. You couldn't have known." I interjected comfortingly.

"But I should have known. I didn't tell you about either of those deals for different reasons. It was partly because I didn't want to worry you. But mostly, it was because I didn't think you'd understand the logistics." My father explained abashedly.

The last part stung, but I was relieved at the same time that he was being honest with me for a change.

"I should've known about the Tipton too and Laurent Savoy. I should've listened when you warned me. I thought you were acting like a spoiled child who'd gotten every advantage in life. I tried to stop it, but it was too late-"

"Daddy, it's okay. I know you tried to get out of the Tipton agreement. I don't blame you for any of it."

"Still, the Tipton's your home. I shouldn't have gone behind your back. I made you a promise after all. If Brandy were here now, she would've told me the same thing."

A knot formed in my stomach at the mention of Brandy. I'd always known it would be painful to talk about her with my father. But we were past the point of no return now.

"Daddy, about what I said the day you were taken hostage, about Brandy and Cindy. I was way out of line and I'm sorry. It was a long time ago, it's in the past." I stated steadily.

"Is it really? I made a vow to myself that if I got out of the hostage situation alive, I'd try and explain my actions. I'm not surprised that Brandy told you about my indiscretions; you were close, it's understandable. I loved her a great deal, but I'm not perfect. I was arrogant and selfish. When I realized how foolish I'd been, I stopped my liaison with Cindy and told Brandy everything. I begged her to give me another chance; I needed to prove to her that I could be a better husband, that she could trust me again. I never got the chance to make good on that promise. Now I'll never know whether she ever really forgave me-"

"She did forgive you, I-"

My father looked at me while I made a snap decision to tell him the truth. Hadn't we already kept too many secrets already?

"I was there the day she died, at the Chrysler Building." I finished.

My father stared at me in amazement.

"That's impossible. You were at that fashion show with your friends," he replied in bewilderment.

"I was, but I left early. A friend of mine who works at the Boston Herald told me what happened, so I went down to the Chrysler Building. I saw Brandy right before she went back into the building."

My father sank into his chair while clutching his head in his hands.

"My God London," he murmured.

"OPIUM planted a bomb in the building that would've killed everyone on sight. That's why Brandy strapped the bomb to her own body, so no one else had to die. She was so brave. She loved you, right till the very end. She loved us both and she wanted us to be happy and carry on after she was gone. She forgave you Daddy." I answered, the tears running down my face with each passing second.

"Why didn't you tell me?" My father demanded painstakingly.

"Because I was angry at you. I hated you for betraying Brandy. She told me about Cindy a week before her death and I resented her for giving you another chance. I felt so alone after she died; for a while nothing made sense. But things make sense now; my life finally has meaning. No matter what I do with my life, I hope you can accept me as I am."

"Of course I can accept you. You're my child."

"I'm sorry that we haven't been close in a long time. I just missed Brandy, I still do." I admitted morosely.

"I know, I miss her too, every day. We were going to renew our wedding vows. But then she died-"

After that, my father, the cutthroat businessman and hotel mogul, broke down and began crying uncontrollably, finally succumbing to his pent-up grief. And there wasn't anything I could do for him. I had lived with this pain and loss for over a year and learned to bury it behind my astute poker face. He, on the other hand, was only just beginning his worst nightmare: the loss of a loved one and learning to live with the void. Despite the sadness I felt for my father, I was relieved as well. I had learnt two vital things today. Firstly, I could be the real me with my father and not be afraid of the consequences. And secondly, my father had truly loved my step-mother with all his imperfections. Brandy really had left a lasting impression on the people she loved. She had given me and my father this gift and I was grateful. I knew that the grieving period differed with each person, some people needing a few years to heal, some a lifetime. But somehow I knew that my father and I would overcome our temporary despair in time. Now that we'd finally admitted what we feared and told lies about, we'd be able to sleep peacefully from now on. There would be no nightmares tonight; only angelic dreams with castles in the sky, ice-cream and Brandy's smile.

**Cheesy right? But that was kinda what I was going for. I needed a heart-felt moment between London and her father. I hope it was believable. and not too morbid. How did I still manage to make this chapter plus-minus 4000 words? I was not meant to be a short-story novelist. Read and holler back at me in a review, let me know what you think.**


	12. A Likely Story

**Drum roll please, the last (and may I say) shortest chapter in the entire story : ) I think it pretty much speaks for itself. More of the TSL characters you know, love and write stories about. Enjoy!**

After all the emotional upheavals of the day, I was happy to finally reach my home, the Tipton. There was the usual flurry of activity in the form of guests checking in and out and employees weaving their way through the crowd. In addition, there were a host of new figures in the lobby taking measurements of the carpets and walls. Moseby had thrown himself into the renovations of the Tipton after the damage Lance and I had caused to the hotel interior. I was surprised that many guests hadn't been put off by the latest happenings at the Tipton. In fact, many of the guests who'd been hostages had decided to stay on at the Tipton instead of moving next door to the St. Marks. Naturally, Moseby had rewarded their loyalty with an array of hampers and special discounts. Along with his managerial duties, Moseby had been fussing over me like a paternal hen, making sure that I was comfortable and well rested, much like he'd done all my life.

I would be leaving in a few days for my 'suspension' with Lance. We had already booked our accommodation at the Tipton Hotel in the Maldives. Daddy even offered to let us use his private jet to fly there. I was a little sad to leave the Boston Tipton behind for a month after everything that had transpired. But I knew that I would be leaving it in good hands. After leaving my father's office earlier, I had been informed that DEMON had placed Kevin Moran in the witness protection programme after he had cooperated with the police and agreed to testify at Laurent Savoy's trial. While Lance and I served out the remainder of our 'suspension', both DEMON and HALO would be building up their case against OPIUM in the hopes of shutting down the entire organization. With a little persuasion, they were hoping to convince Laurent Savoy to give up the names of the shareholders in exchange for a lighter sentence. Something told me that the CIA might just succeed in this venture.

Neither Moseby, Esteban nor Maddie were at their usual posts in the lobby. I was just walking past one of the Tipton ballrooms when a hand shot out and pulled me inside. Before I could make any sudden movements, I was shoved abruptly against the wall. When I finally realized who my assailant was, I glared unabashedly.

"Lance, what do you think you're doing?" I demanded gruffly while placing my hands on my hips.

"This," was all he said before placing his lips on mine.

My hands fell limply to my sides as Lance's hands caressed my neck. Before I could think or breathe any further, I was kissing him back just as ferociously. I wrapped my hands around his back and pulled him even closer to me as Lance continued peppering my mouth with gentle kisses. It seemed like years since he'd kissed me like this, maybe it had been. True, we'd been kissing like this just a few days ago. But that was when we both thought it would be the last time before we embarked on a suicide mission. This time, he kissed just like those times when he'd kissed me in the past, like we had all the time in the world. After going to the hospital after Laurent Savoy's arrest, we hadn't had a private moment since then. I had to commend him on his spontaneity.

When he finally pulled away from me, I had already forgotten why I'd glared at him in the first place.

"What was that for?" I asked curiously with a big grin on my face.

"I just wanted a moment alone with you, away from the cameras and Moseby." Lance explained with an easy smile.

"He has been keeping an unusual amount of eyes on me lately." I agreed laughingly.

"He's just worried about you after everything that's happened in the last few days." Lance speculated nonchalantly.

"He's sweet, but I'm fine." I responded lightly.

"Are you really?" Lance asked carefully with a concerned look in his eyes.

"Yeah, I actually am. I had a good talk with Eleanor and my father earlier. I finally realized just how much Brandy meant to them both. I went to the cemetery earlier, just to put some flowers by her headstone. I haven't been there in months. I actually felt okay being there for once, like a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders. I was holding onto to my grief, guilt and anger for so long that I forgot to live my life, to live in the present. Now that I finally confronted Daddy, I feel like I can start having some closure." I responded seriously while Lance listened patiently.

"That's great London, I'm glad you're feeling better. But for those days when you're not, you can come find me. I'll always be here." He promised and kissed my forehead gently.

"I know. Thank you for being here all the while."

"There's no where else I'd rather be. I got you something."

Lance took a box the size of his hand out of his pocket and handed it to me.

"What is it?" I asked quizzically.

"Open it and see," he invited.

I obediently lifted the lid of the box and gasped. It was a white-gold necklace with an elegant figurine on it, encrusted in tiny emeralds.

"Lance, it's beautiful." I gushed in awe.

"It's Aphrodite. Personally, I think you're ten times hotter. Do you like it?"

"I love it. But what's with the kissing and presents anyway? Are you about to give me bad news?" I teased lightly.

"That depends: there's something I'd like to ask you. London Tipton, will you be my girlfriend, again?" Lance asked with a nervous chuckle while watching my expression.

I pretended to think about it for a few seconds just to make him sweat it out a little. But I'd already had my answer for the past few days.

"Okay, but on one condition." I began softly.

"Anything."

"I want complete and total honesty in this relationship, from both of us. Don't ever lie to me again about or so help me God Lance, I will drown you in a kiddie pool." I warned seriously.

"It's a deal."

"Good, 'cause I was just kidding about the kiddie pool, I think." I laughed before launching myself into his arms and kissing him silly.

We were still sitting together in the ballroom and kissing about 20 minutes later when we heard someone clearing their throat loudly behind us. We both turned to find Maddie and the twins standing the doorway, watching us intently.

"Hey guys, where have you been? I was looking for you earlier." I greeted happily.

"We were hanging out upstairs. When did you get back?" Maddie enquired curiously.

"About 30 minutes ago. Lance and I were…catching up." I explained sheepishly which made Lance laugh too.

"Yeah, we caught that. We really need to talk to you." Cody announced in a serious tone which startled me.

"I'd better get going." Lance suggested quickly.

"You don't have to leave Lance," Zack stated hurriedly.

"No, it's okay. I have to go clean the pool anyway. I'll see you later London."

He kissed me quickly on the lips and then departed, closing the ballroom door behind him. I turned my attention back my favourite trio, wondering what they wanted to talk about.

"So you and Fish-Boy are dating again then?" Zack asked casually.

"Pretty much." I answered cheerily.

"And you've worked out all of your issues?" Maddie pressed in a concerned voice.

"We have. And I couldn't be happier." I replied seriously.

"Well then we're happy for you London." Cody stated genuinely.

"Thanks guys, I really appreciate your support. Now what did you want to talk to me about?" I questioned impatiently.

"We have a lot of questions. Mainly about the hostage situation and how you and Lance managed to execute your rescue mission." Maddie began plainly.

I sighed. I had sensed there would be more questions from my peers once I was finished talking to my father. Up till this moment, I still had no idea what I was going to tell them. I hoped it would come to me in the moment.

"What do you want to know?" I asked tentatively, not wanting to lead the interrogation.

"We know something's going on, that you have a secret." Cody continued cautiously.

"And do you happen to know what this 'secret' is?" I enquired casually.

The three of them gave each other meaningful looks before Zack spoke.

"We have a few theories, based on our observations. The secret meetings, your long absences from Boston, those unusual accidents and injuries." Zack answered glibly.

"And then you and Lance show up here a few days ago and take down an entire criminal syndicate like it's no big deal. Like you've been trained to do it." Maddie went on seriously.

This was getting uncomfortably close to the truth now. Was there no going back?

"We didn't take them down by ourselves, we had help remember?" I pointed out carefully by glancing at each of them.

"We weren't the only ones who helped. Those operatives on the outside – they weren't part of the police force were they?" Cody asked frankly.

"No." I said softly.

"London, we've risked our lives for you. Don't you think you owe us an explanation for why we did so?" Zack demanded impatiently.

"London, you've gotta tell us something. We're your friends, you can trust us." Maddie persisted earnestly.

I sighed again. This was harder than I thought. Could I really tell them everything like Brandy had told me a year ago? Suddenly the phrase 'no more lies' seemed practical in theory only. The three of them were staring intently at me, waiting for me to speak. Finally I relented.

"Okay, I acknowledge that I have a secret that I've been keeping from the three of you and everyone else. What if I told you that I had an important job to do? One that put me at a lot of risk, but one that also saves countless innocent lives as well? What if I told you that I had to keep this secret in order to protect myself and the identities of the people I care for? Perhaps I dumbed myself down in the process to make the lies more plausible. I thought it would be easier that way." I explained calmly.

For a while, none of them said anything and I thought for certain that I'd already lost them. Then Zack spoke up again and bowled me over with his next words:

"Well in that case, we want in." he announced with a giant smirk on his face.

I paused for a moment to make sure I'd heard right. Did Zack just say they wanted in. Had any of them comprehended what I'd just said?

"What are you talking about? Did you understand a word I just said?"

"We understood." Cody informed me pleasantly with a similar smirk to Zack's.

"Then you'll know that I haven't just been describing Disneyland to you. My life isn't paradise. Okay rephrase, half of my life is paradise because I'm London Tipton. But the other half I just described to you is no 5-star hotel. It's difficult, gritty, dangerous and often hopeless at times. You can't tell the truth about anything; you have to fight like your life depends on it. And sometimes, you have to do some questionable things which go against everything you believe in. Are you honestly telling me you could do that willingly?" I asked them seriously.

"If you can do it, then why not us? Maybe the three of us want to do something that saves lives too. Besides, you and Lance need our help. Think about the possibilities." Maddie urged tantalizingly.

And she was right, there were possibilities. But there was also the possibility that Maddie's parents and Carey might flay me alive for getting their children involved in something like this. On the other hand, their willingness to get involved in this meant that they understood and they had my back no matter what. No one ever said doing the right thing would be easy. But maybe it was a lot simpler than I previously thought, especially when you had people you loved and trusted, fighting on the same side with you.

"What do you say London?" Cody asked carefully, watching my expression.

I hope I didn't live to regret this.

"I'll think about it." I replied slowly.

**Wow, it's finally over. It all seems so surreal and anti-climatic. PerennialKillJoy suggested I do a sequel to this story and I already have a few ideas for it. But I need a break from espionage for a while. I'm returning to comedy and romance, my two favourite genres. Keep a look-out for my next story I'm working on. It's a High School Musical cross-over story called "Three's A Musical". Thank you again, you've been wonderful. Viva Smart London and Lance! Snapplelinz out.**


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